Silent All These Years
by Eleanor Zara Sugarbaker
Summary: Is there more to Petunia Dursley beneath that icy exterior?
1. Prologue

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Author's Notes: This fic starts out on the night following the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley in "Order of the Phoenix".

Also, the physical descriptions of the characters featured in this fic are in accordance with the actors that played them in the movies (this holds true with my other fics as well). In this fic, Petunia has brown hair, so when you read, picture [the wonderful and talented] Fiona Shaw.

Characters may be a OOC, so if that turns you off, please turn away now. Flames will be converted into energy.

The title and quote at the beginning of the story come from the song "Silent All These Years" by Tori Amos.

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Prologue

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"...cause sometimes, I said sometimes, I hear my voice and it's been here, silent all these years."

She just couldn't sleep. It was now two o'clock in the morning and Petunia Dursley was wide awake, a thousand thoughts running through her mind, warding off any possibility of falling into a restful slumber. Laying on her back, next to her snoring husband, she stared up at the ceiling where she saw shadows of branches, belonging to the tree just outside the bedroom window, swaying back and forth. For hours she'd laid there, just thinking. 

The evening had not gone well at all. First off, her poor Dudders's soul was almost taken by a dementor, then she'd gotten that horrid, smoking _letter_ that was addressed specifically to _her_ and if that wasn't enough, those filthy, dirty owls had invaded her clean home to drop off messages from those freaky friends of her nephew's. Then her nephew told her that the man who'd killed her sister and brother-in-law had come back and Vernon had lost his temper and she'd let it slip that she knew what dementors were and Harry had so many questions... Oh God.... 

She let out a soft groan and shut her eyes tightly. 

Petunia Dursley loathed magic and some would say that she also hated her wizard nephew, Harry, just as much if not more. He was the mutant spawn of her freakish sister and that awful man that she'd married. Her nephew bore the brunt of her prejudices and hatred towards magic because, in her eyes, he and his "kind" were antagonists to the ideals she perceived as being normal and therefore wholesome and acceptable. Petunia wanted nothing to do with that magic stuff. It was a threat to her home, her family and her belief that nothing good could ever come of it. 

Given her immense disliking of the subjects of Harry and magic, it was very odd when in bed that night she began to realize that her attitude towards Harry had somewhat changed. When she let it slip that she knew what dementors were, she felt a sort of nexus between herself and her nephew that she couldn't explain. A month ago or even yesterday the thought of such thing would have abhorred her, but tonight this feeling of closeness to her sister's son just plain baffled her. Of course, she didn't speak to her husband, Vernon, about it. She didn't feel that she could, after all, together they'd despised the boy for nearly fifteen years. There was one matter in particular, though, that weighed on her mind that night, something that she hadn't thought about in decades. 

She averted her gaze from the ceiling and looked over at the sleeping form of her husband, who was still snoring. Whenever she had these rare moments to herself in bed, after Vernon had already fallen asleep, she took the time to think about general, but important things such as what she was going to pack for Vernon and Dudley's lunch the next day or what she would be wearing to the neighborhood council meeting or what to make for dinner, but tonight she ventured into areas of her memory that she'd locked up a long time ago, memories that were better left unspoken as they would be sure to perturb her husband and create even more havoc than mere mention of the "M" word could. These were things she'd never spoken about to him or anyone else--things having to do with her sister.

When her mind had drifted onto the burdening thoughts of her sister, being paranoid, she once again glimpsed at her husband to make sure he was asleep. Though she knew she was being silly, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable thinking these things next to him. Worried, she bit her bottom lip and wondered, _What if he somehow finds out what I'm thinking?_

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Oh nonsense! she chastised herself. _People can't read minds!_ _Well, normal people, anyway..._

The fact was, when Harry saved her son, she was reminded of a time in her girlhood in which her sister Lily had illegally used magic outside of school. Lily had been twelve and she'd been thirteen. The two of them were out of school for the summer holidays, and Petunia, irked with her younger sister, decided to play a prank on her. One afternoon, she climbed to the top of the giant oak tree that grew in their front yard, with a bag of water balloons in hand. It was difficult trying to climb single-handedly, but Petunia managed. She remembered finally getting to the top of the tree after a particularly arduous ascent and then hearing a loud crack. Everything happened so fast that she couldn't clearly recall what transpired next. The only thing she remembered was closing her eyes in preparation for the inevitable pain that would come upon impact. But that pain never came, for when she opened her eyes again, she found herself levitating just inches from the ground. Close by stood a frightened Lily, her wand gripped tightly in her shaking hand. Her face was pale and her bright green eyes were wide with fear and moist with tears. Once she saw that her older sister was all right, Lily ran over to where Petunia was floating and hugged her, thankful that she wasn't hurt. Not a concern entered her mind that she'd broken the rules for the Restriction for Underage Wizardry.

Petunia hadn't even been grateful. Later that same day, she'd stolen her sister's wand and threatened to break it unless Lily did everything she'd asked which included cleaning Petunia's room and surrendering to her sister her enormous stash of chocolate. Eventually, her parents found out about the situation and Petunia had gotten into trouble. It seemed like they always treated her like she was the bad egg of the family. In her parents' eyes, she just couldn't compete with their darling Lily.

A surge of bitterness shot through her veins and suddenly she felt quite restless. Realizing that sleep was not going to overtake her anytime soon, Petunia quietly got up and stepped into her house slippers, put on her bathrobe and tip-toed out of the bedroom. She was careful not to shut the door too hard so that she could avoid waking up Vernon or the boys. Creeping downstairs, she cautiously steered clear of the steps that creaked (_Vernon should really fix those_) and went into the kitchen to start some tea. She had a feeling that it was going to be a long night and doubted that she'd get any sleep at all. It was unthinkable that she'd allow herself the luxury of sleeping in as she didn't trust Harry to be alone. There's no telling what he would do or what kind of trouble he'd get into if no one was around to watch him. Besides, what would the neighbors think of her sleeping the morning away! They'd think she'd been out all night, up to no good, that's what they'd think! It was hard enough trying to look and act normal when one _ab_normal boy lived under her roof... At the thought of this, her mind immediately jumped to the memories of her sister that she'd kept only to herself the last twenty years. Tonight, there would be no escaping them as they surfacing like dead fish in water. 

While the water for the tea was put on the stove to boil, she went to the tiny cupboard that Harry used to occupy, quietly unlocked the door and opened it. Inside, she found the old trunk of her father's that she'd received upon his death. It was where she kept her precious mementos--pressed flowers from high school sweethearts, pictures of long forgotten friends, her dried up bridal bouquet, the clothes that Dudley wore home from hospital, her parents' wedding rings--and hidden at the very bottom, wrapped inconspicuously in brown paper, was a framed picture of herself and Lily when they were little girls. It was the only picture she had of her sister. 

Petunia blew the bit of dust off it to get a better look. A simple moment in time preserved forever--a seven-year old Lily with her long red hair in pigtails, her green eyes shining brightly and Petunia, aged eight, her brown shoulder length locks swept up in a ponytail. Gently, she caressed the silver lilies and petunias that decorated the frame and gazed at a younger version of herself. Interrupting her reverie, the tea kettle began to whistle and so Petunia jumped up, picture in hand, and hurried into the kitchen to take it off the burner.

Once she'd fixed herself a cup of tea, she sat down at the kitchen table, the picture frame sitting upright in front of her. She remembered when she had first gotten it, about twenty years ago. At that time, years had gone by without the sisters saying a single word to one another. Once Lily had graduated, she'd made a life for herself with those weird friends of hers. Petunia had met Vernon who shared in her conviction that nothing good could come of anything associated with magic. The sisters had never been particularly close, but by the time Lily had graduated, the pair had drifted so far apart that their was little hope for a reconciliation. Their ideas and values were just too different. Of course, the main issue at hand was magic, that was the divider, and Petunia was neither willing to accept it nor Lily. To Petunia, her sister had simply ceased to exist. Sure, Lily had attempted to contact her sister through letters and cards, which were promptly thrown away. 

Then the day before Petunia and Vernon's wedding, a package came by post for "Miss Petunia Evans." The bride-to-be didn't see a return address and when she opened the parcel, she found not a card nor a letter, but instead a picture of herself and Lily in an ornate silver picture frame of lilies and petunias. Petunia immediately knew who it was from. Disgusted, she tossed it aside and never thought twice about it--until after her mother's death. 

As most sisters serve as maid-of-honor or bridesmaids in their sister's wedding, Lily hadn't even been invited. Lily hadn't yet graduated Hogwarts when Petunia decided that she was better off not associating with her sister's "kind." They were decidedly odd, going around in those bizarre clothes, saying words that didn't make sense, making things happen with a wave of a wand... Instead, she found her satisfaction by being an ordinary woman--a faithful wife and devoted mother in the "normal" world apart from the abnormality and strangeness that followed those like her sister.

Not long before she'd found out she was pregnant, her mother died, leaving everything she had to her daughters. Not wanting to run into her sister, she had visited her mother's house just after dawn one day following the funeral and claimed a few items for herself, mainly knickknacks and jewelry that held some significance for her. Just before leaving her mother's house, she'd gone into the room that had once belonged to her and sitting on the nightstand beside her old bed was the girlhood picture of the two sisters that Lily had given her as a wedding present. She stopped to pick it up and took a good look at it, but she remembered that she was on a fixed schedule and promptly sat it back down. There were other, more important items that she'd wanted to take--things that didn't remind her of the sister that she didn't have. Like a vulture looking for food, she searched every closet, every drawer, every shelf and even under the bed for keepsakes to take home with her.

She'd gathered up everything that she wanted and had almost walked out the bedroom door when once again she noticed the picture in its silver frame sitting there on the nightstand. Impulsively, she grabbed it and stuffed it roughly into her purse and left. On her way home, she thought about how she was going to hide it from Vernon. He hated Lily even though he'd never met her. Heck, _she_ hated Lily, but something about that picture grabbed her attention. Thankfully, when she arrived home, her husband had already left for work. She had the whole day to find the perfect hiding spot. And so it remained in the bottom of her late father's trunk for nearly sixteen years. Not once in all that time had she ever taken it out to look at it--until now.

Now, almost thirty years after Lily had saved her sister, her son had saved his cousin using magic that he wasn't suppose to be using outside of school. Harry didn't _have_ to save his cousin... but he did, just like his mother. Almost immediately, after explaining the dementors to Vernon, Petunia looked at her nephew with new eyes. In one moment they shared an understanding that came from their common bond: Lily. It was in his eyes that she saw her baby sister and the memory of Lily saving her from the fall that had been safely tucked away into the far reaches of her mind was revisited. For a brief few seconds, she and Harry connected, aunt to nephew, nephew to aunt, as they never had connected before and for the first time she felt the blood in her veins flowing in the veins of the fourteen year old boy in front of her--her dead sister's boy.

Unable to contain her emotions any longer, Petunia sat her tea cup down in it's saucer and the tears that flooded her eyes began streaming down her cheek. She was at the same time angry, sad, bitter, sorrowful and sorry. Putting a hand across her mouth, she tried to muffle her cries so that she didn't wake anyone. It puzzled her as she didn't know where all this emotion was coming from, and it felt as though never before did she have such a need to cry as she did at that moment. It was a cry that was long overdue--for her, for Lily _and_ for Harry.

From those wee early hours of the morning until just before daybreak, Petunia sat at the table, the tea she made grew steadily cold as it lay wasted in it's pot. The picture frame sat vigil before her, a shrine to what she'd lost and a reminder to what she'd thrown away. It was the only witness to the tears she'd shed. But the truth that only the dead of the night can bring didn't last for long. By dawn, she had dried her tears and cleaned up her mess in the kitchen. Before anyone else had gotten up, the pretty frame and it's picture were once again wrapped in brown paper and placed at the bottom of her trunk. After locking it in the cupboard, she went upstairs to get washed up and dressed. Today was a new day, there was breakfast to cook, groceries to buy, clothes to wash and iron, rooms to clean, a garden to weed, floors to sweep, a car to wash... 

And once again, magic was a dirty word in the Dursley house.


	2. Chapter 1: Remember

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Author's Notes: This chapter starts out in July, the summer between Harry's 5th and 6th year at Hogwarts.

Also, the physical descriptions of the characters featured in this fic are in accordance with the actors that played them in the movies (this holds true with my other fics as well). In this fic, Petunia has brown hair, so when you read, picture [the wonderful and talented] Fiona Shaw.

Characters are now beginning to act OOC, so if that turns you off, please turn away now. Flames will be converted into energy.

The chapter title and lyrics at the beginning of the story come from the song "Remember" by Disturbed.

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Also, a big THANK YOU :o) to my wonderful reviewers!! I love ya!

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Chapter 1: Remember

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Sensation washes over me 

I can't describe it 

Pain I felt so long ago 

I don't remember 

Tear a hole so I can see 

My devastation 

Feelings from so long ago 

I don't remember 

Holding on, to let them know 

What's given to me, given to me 

To hide behind 

The mask this time 

And try to believe 

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Blind your eyes to what you see 

You can't embrace it 

Leave it well enough alone 

And don't remember 

Cut your pride and watch it bleed 

You can't deny it 

Pain you know you can't ignore 

I don't remember 

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Holding on, to let them know 

What's given to me, given to me 

To hide behind 

The mask this time 

And try to believe 

If I can 

Remember 

To know this will 

Conquer me 

If I can 

Just walk alone 

And try to escape 

Into me 

Holding on, to let them know 

What's given to me, given to me 

To hide behind 

The mask this time 

And try to believe 

If I can 

Remember 

To know this will 

Conquer me 

If I can 

Just walk alone 

And try to escape 

Into me 

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It was a bright, sunny morning in early July when Petunia went into Harry's room to awaken him. Brilliant gold-orange streams of light were bursting out from the small nooks the window blinds neglected to cover. They reached across the room and came to rest upon Harry's sleeping form. The house was quiet and still, as it had been for most of the summer. 

Almost immediately after Harry returned to Number Four Privet Drive in June, his cousin Dudley had left for the States to attend a boxing camp. Then a couple of weeks following Dudley's departure, his Uncle Vernon announced that the company he worked for, Grunnings, was starting a new foreign campaign to sell drills overseas and had appointed him the company's representative. This entailed extensive traveling in North and South America over the next few months. Unfortunately, Grunnings was only footing the bill for Vernon; family wasn't included. Vernon had tried to persuade Petunia to come with him, saying that they could drop Harry off with his sister, Marge, or pay old Mrs. Figg to keep him for a few months, but Petunia declined. This of course, shocked Vernon. 

It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to partake in the exotic comforts and luxuries a place like, say, Brazil, had to offer, but every time she looked at Harry's face, from somewhere deep in her conscience, a voice called out to her, telling her to stay with the boy. Now, it could've been that she was simply having a bad day when she thought she heard this voice, or perhaps it was because she hadn't a decent night's sleep since her nephew had arrived home (since Dudley had left for camp, she watched him like a hawk to make sure he didn't steal or use any of her Diddykin's things). Neither explanation satisfied her completely or eased her conscience in the slightest bit. It slightly alarmed Petunia that she couldn't explain the ominous, pleading voice within or the nagging feeling it brought with it. To ease her anxieties she tried to chalk it up to her imagination, but alas, she wasn't entirely convinced that that was what it was. After reluctantly telling Vernon that she had more pressing things to do at home, he'd left for Argentina and had been gone ever since.

Though Petunia missed her husband and son, she was relieved to finally have some time alone. She'd never been separated from them for this long and truthfully, she relished the thought of being able to focus more on her cleaning than worrying if Vernon's grey suit was going to be back from the cleaners in time for him to go to work or if Dudley was getting enough to eat (after all, he was a growing boy, it was difficult cooking four course meals five or six times a day!). It was a full time job keeping her family happy and content, so she decided that the little vacation away from them would give her a chance to thoroughly clean and polish every nook and cranny. Not a spot in her house would be spared her wrath for she had decided to wage guerilla warfare on dirt. She wouldn't be fighting the battle alone, however, for her nephew, Harry, would be helping her. For the next couple of weeks, the two had spent many silent days mopping, sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, polishing and rearranging until Petunia was somewhat satisfied.

If there had to be a downside in staying in Surry, it was being stuck alone with Harry. Petunia did have to admit, he hadn't been as bratty as he usually was. Since Vernon and she brought him home from the train station, he'd barely spoken two words. He'd done his chores without being told to, gotten up in the mornings without her having to wake him and basically just stayed out of her way. For once in both their lives, his aunt became concerned for him. The Saturday after Vernon left, Petunia was feeling particularly lonely and decided to cook a big dinner. She even relented in her animosity towards Harry and told him to join her. Politely, he refused and she was stunned. Her _Dudley_ would never have declined such a feast! These days, he just didn't seem to want to eat much and preferred to be aloof than be stuck at the dinner table with his aunt.

Harry seemed to like being off on his own. His favorite hiding spot was the flower bed just outside the kitchen window. For hours at a time, he'd go out there and lay in the cool shade it offered from the hot summer sun. Though he thought that his aunt was oblivious to his whereabouts, she knew exactly where he was. One afternoon she'd been looking out the window at a neighbor when she happened to glance downward and saw him laying there, his hands tucked behind his head. When she was sure he hadn't seen her, Petunia continued to watch him, trying to figure out as his behavior as it puzzled her to no end. What reflected in his face was that of utmost anger and sadness. His eyes were dull and joyless and his posture was slacking, but Petunia refrained from saying anything when at any other time she would've been quick to criticize. Ever since the night last summer when Dudley was attacked by the dementors, her icy demeanor had slightly thawed towards the boy. To her surprise, though, this summer, it was remarkably easy to get along with Harry as he was completely compliant and obedient. She hadn't even worried about him doing anything involving the "M" word. 

So, on this particular mid-July morning, she had decided to move her war on filth from the house to outside in her garden. She'd decided that it had been neglected too long, especially since the dry summer heat had shriveled up many of the flowers and much of the greenery. Also, she noticed a few weeds popping up here and there, and if there was something that she hated more than a messy house, it was weeds (not including the "M" word)! It would also make for a nice change to work outside in the sun rather than to be stuck inside all day, _again_. 

Harry, of course, would be assisting her. So, at exactly 6:30 AM, dressed in tan khaki capri pants, a short-sleeved light blue t-shirt and wearing a large straw hat, she went into Harry's room and awoke him.

She stood with her hands on her hips, mere inches between her and her sleeping nephew, and shouted, "Get up!! Get dressed quickly and come outside to the garden!" Just as swiftly as she entered, she exited.

Startled, Harry shot up barely in time to see his Aunt Petunia leaving the room. Without making a sound, he obeyed his aunt's orders and hurriedly dressed. Rushing down the stairs, he threw on an old t-shirt and tried to smooth his wild, morning hair with no luck. Exiting through the back door of the house, he saw his Aunt Petunia already to work: squatting in the midst of her begonias, wearing dirty brown gloves, trying to shovel weeds that didn't seem to want to be uprooted. 

When she heard the door close, Petunia looked up at Harry and snapped, "It's about time! Come over here!" Harry moved to stand in front of her. She stopped digging at the weed long enough to give him instructions.

"You see these weeds?" She pointed to a few scattered weeds around her as Harry mutely nodded his head. "I want you to pull them all out of the ground. I want the little nuisances all gone! There's a shovel next to the door. Try to pull them out first. If that doesn't work, then dig them out, but only as your last resort. Make sure you've removed all the roots, then refill the holes with dirt. I don't want to see any holes in my garden! Understood??"

Once again, Harry nodded and set off to get the shovel and started to work. For nearly an hour, both labored to remove the dratted, troublesome weeds. Sweat dripped down Petunia's back and her hair was soaked, but she was no stranger to sweating as it was a sign of hard work. Periodically, she would glance up from her task at hand to see her nephew hunched over and digging away at a weed, his face scrunched up in concentration. Every few seconds, he'd have to stop and push his glasses up his sweaty nose, but then he'd go back to shoveling as if he never stopped.

When the weeding was finished, Petunia then gave orders for Harry to search for and pick off any shriveled and brown leaves from the flowers and plants. In the meantime, she would be pruning the unruly and grossly overgrown rose bushes.

As she approached the bushes with pruning shears, she scanned them, appalled that they had ever grown so out of control. She hoped the neighbors hadn't seen them... What kind of person would they think she was, who couldn't keep her bushes groomed?? Well, Mrs. Madison down the street couldn't say anything as her bushes had long withered in the dry heat and were nothing more than skeletons. The roses it produced had been pitifully mediocre to Petunia's blooms. Every summer, people from all over Privet Drive came to admire the Dursley rose bushes as their roses were the most vibrant, varied in color and the largest. An exorbitant amount of energy on both Petunia and Vernon's parts were taken to ensure only the most beautiful roses. They'd been trying every year since 1986 to win first place in the Little Whinging Garden Association's "Best of the Best Roses" contest, but always lost to Mr. and Mrs. Tate who lived two doors down. Now _those_ were the kind of people she was afraid that would see her struggling garden as they were notorious for spreading nasty little rumors! Mrs. Tate was one of the worst gossipers Privet Drive had ever seen! If they'd happened to see Petunia's pathetic looking bushes.... oh God, what havoc those Tates could create! Why just last year... 

"When did you plant these?"

Petunia was abruptly torn from her thoughts by a soft voice. A voice so soft that she almost didn't hear it. 

Turning around, she eyed her dirty, sweaty nephew who was kneeling by some white flowers looking up at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

Frowning, she asked him, "What did you say??" 

A little louder, he repeated himself, "I said, when did you plant these? I'd never seen them before and..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence as his aunt sharply cut him off. Petunia went back to pruning and tersely, she said, "Don't ask questions."

A few more minutes went by in which neither person said a thing. The only noise to be heard was the sound of Petunia's pruning shears cutting more rapidly and louder than before. Harry, however, didn't move, but kneeled in the dirt looking curiously from the flowers to his aunt and back to the flowers. 

Unnerved by Harry's question, Petunia almost jumped out of her skin when he spoke again.

"I know what these flowers are. Why did you plant them? You've never grown them before." 

Angrily, Petunia whirled around and pointed her shears in Harry's direction. "I thought I said no questions?!"

Harry shot up and furiously stomped over to his aunt. "I think that's a stupid rule! Why can't you talk about her?! I just spent a year asking questions that no one would answer! You don't know how it feels to wonder and wonder because people think you're better off not knowing!" He was breathing heavily now due to his outburst. His hands were clenched at his sides and his eyes were burning with resentment.

"Don't you speak to me like that! And hush or the neighbors will hear you!" she hissed in a lowered voice. Scanning the parameter of the yard in her typical paranoid fashion, she wanted to make sure that no one was trying to peep over the fence to gawk at the scene Harry was making.

"I don't care if the neighbors hear me!" His voice was slightly softer than before, but it had lost none of its intensity.

Petunia's eyes pierced through Harry. He'd never seen her this irate before. Even at her angriest, she'd never looked the way she'd looked at this moment: like she would suddenly stab him with the shears.

"Well, I _do_ care what the neighbors think. I don't want Harriet Jones next door spreading vicious rumors about how my ill-behaved nephew back-talks me!" she spat. Threateningly, she inched closer to Harry with her hand in midair ready to slap him; her stony face was frozen in the fixed glare with which she looked at the intolerable little deviant before her. 

Though his fists were clenched and his eyes were narrowed, she just knew that he was using every last scrap of courage he had to stand up to her like this. As she got nearer, to her surprise, her fury seemed to lessen. The look in his green eyes was so very familiar to her and in that moment she backed off. Stopping in her tracks, Petunia saw something in the boy's eyes that found a minute part of her heart that she kept hidden from the world. 

She lowered her now trembling hand until it was at her side. A few seconds passed allowing her heartbeat and breathing to return to normal. The rage disappeared from her face and was replaced by a weariness that comes from years of deceiving oneself and depriving oneself of the truth which frees the soul. Calmly, through gritted teeth, she said expressionlessly, "Go back to work." 

Turning, she walked back to her rose bushes. Raising her pruning shears, she begin clipping. Harry ignored her instructions and kept talking, his tone laced with bitterness.

"I wish my mother and father were alive! I hate you! If my godfather hadn't died, I wouldn't have come back here at all!"

Petunia stopped pruning, but did not turn around. She did not shout or yell or feel a proclivity to drag Harry by the hair of his head and lock him in his room until September. In fact, she slightly felt as though she deserved those words. If Harry had said those things a year ago or if Vernon had been around, the boy would've been dead. But the thoughts, feelings and words that originated from her nephew didn't bounce off her like they used to. Instead, they stabbed her and she felt pained, not only for herself, but for Harry.

Not moving from where she stood, she turned her head to the side, looking at nothing in particular. With a sigh, she managed in a breaking voice, to ask, not tell, Harry, "_Please_ Harry, go back to work."

Yet again, he defied his aunt's request. As if he were taunting her, he kept talking. "You know, I don't hate Uncle Vernon or even Dudley as much as I hate you! You know why?! Because _you _were suppose to love me and want me! You are my _aunt_! My mother's _sister_! That's why I had to come live with you! But you never talk about her, you can't even bring yourself to mention her name!" In a quieter voice, he added, "All I ever wanted was for someone to want me. Why didn't you just tell Dumbledore to take me somewhere else??" 

His voice faded with that last sentence. Petunia was sure there were tears running down his face as his voice cracked, but she just couldn't look at him. Unshed tears clouded her own eyes. Nosy neighbors and cultivated gardens didn't matter so much any more. God, how she all of a sudden wished Vernon were here! 

Then she did something unprecedented. Setting her shears down on the grass, she went over to where her nephew was. He was now sitting cross-legged, his elbows on his legs with his head in his hands. She knelt down in the warm dirt across from Harry, separated only by a row of flowers. Realizing that she was going to have dirt stains on her pants, she winced slightly. Oh well. They were bound to get dirty anyway. With a fond expression, she glanced down at the white blossoms at her knees. Her deft fingers reached down to trace a silky white blossom in front of her. Using her free hand, she wiped the burning, lingering tears from her eyes. Either Harry didn't notice her or he didn't care because he didn't look up.

With a wavering voice, Petunia said gently, "I wish your mother hadn't died, either. Not because I didn't want you, but--" She stopped and hesitated. Nervously, she licked her lips before continuing on. "But because she was my sister." She awaited Harry's reaction, which he swiftly gave.

Without looking up, he retorted dryly, "So? You've always denied you even had a sister. You've always talked bad about her, like she was some kind of monster. You've even called her names. You didn't care that she died, you hate her." 

"I didn't hate her. It may have seemed like I hated her, but I didn't. Angry? Yes. Bitter? Yes. People don't always say what they mean--" Harry cut her off before she could go on.

"Yeah, well, what I said about hating you? I meant it."

"Don't interrupt me!" she snapped. Harry didn't say anything else. It wasn't a revelation to Petunia to learn that her nephew hated her, so she wasn't exactly shocked that he felt that way. She just felt... awkward and uncomfortable discussing these things with him. Then the little voice in her mind appeared again out of the blue, urging her to talk to Harry. 

She didn't know what to say, so she said the first thing that came to her mind. "You were right, you know. I've never had these flowers in my garden before," she acknowledged, referring to the white flowers that lay between them. "They remind me of your mother. Lilies were her favorite flower because she shared her name with them." She paused to collect her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she knew she was rambling, but couldn't help it. Maybe if she didn't stop think about what she was saying, then she wouldn't be embarrassed. "Every April, when the first blossoms appeared, she would cut a few and put them in a vase in her room. It sat beside her bed. She sat them there so that in the morning, their scent would wake her up."

Harry then raised his head to look at his aunt, whose voice was faltering. The last word had been almost inaudible. Her hat cast a shadow over her face, so he was unable to see her clearly. 

When his eyes met hers, she gazed almost hypnotically into them--his almond shaped, green eyes...

Almost in a whisper, she gasped and said, "Lily used to look at me with those same eyes. Every time I look at you, I sometimes wonder... if she can somehow see me... through you..."

Unable to take anymore, she jump to her feet just as the tears began spilling down her cheeks. Into the house she fled, not caring that she was traipsing dirt on her clean floor. Frantically she looked around for her handbag. She looked by the couch, in the hall closet, on the kitchen countertops, but to no avail. Harry had run into the house right behind her, alarmed by his aunt's behavior. 

Exasperated, Petunia ran up the stairs (losing her hat along the way) to her and Vernon's bedroom where she saw it sitting on her bureau. Grabbing it, she spun around to go back downstairs when she came face to face with Harry. Diving her hand carelessly into her purse, she retrieved a couple of twenty-pound notes. Grabbing Harry's hand, she thrust the notes into them.

"Here," she said. Her voice had returned to its familiar frigid tone. "Spend the day in town. Take the bus, walk, fly--I don't care what you do, just get out of my sight and don't come back until tonight. Eat dinner in town. I want to be alone."

Harry kept his mouth shut and didn't ask any more questions, though Petunia was sure he wanted to so very much. She didn't want to have to look into those eyes of his anymore. It felt as though she was talking to two people--two people who she hurt very much. Two people who hurt her, as well. 

Ushering her nephew down the stairs, she practically shoved him out the door, which she quickly locked behind him. As soon as she was alone, Petunia walked from the door to the kitchen where she fell to her knees and sobbed. Since last summer, she just couldn't get Lily out of her head. Her dead sister haunted her like a restless ghost. The voice in her head distressed her immensely! Was she going mad??

In between her sobs, she saw all the dirt that she and Harry had tracked in from outside. Tears were still rolling down her face, mingling with the sweat, when she got up to get a dish towel. On all fours, she scrubbed frantically at the dirt on the floor, trying not to think about anything else. The more she tried not to think, the faster and more vehement her scrubbing became. 

She hadn't been cleaning the kitchen floor for more than thirty minutes when she heard the doorbell ring. Mortified at the state of her house, she paid no attention to the bell and hoped whoever it was would go away. Company was the last thing she wanted right now, first she had to get this damned dirt up. If she only hadn't have lost her head and run in here like a ninny...

The bell rang a second time.

Petunia's arms and wrists began to hurt from the amount of force with which she held the dishtowel and moved it rapidly back and forth across the surface of the tiled floor. She couldn't stand the sight of all this dirt! It had to go!

Just then, she heard a sound between a _pop_ and a _crack_ and suddenly a person appeared before her. Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, she threw her dishtowel to the side and instantly leapt to her feet. Visibly shaken, she backed up into the refrigerator. 

"WHAT ARE _YOU_ DOING HERE?!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Her voice reverberated throughout the house. All the blood in her body seemed to have dropped to her feet as she felt dizzy and numb. He'd given her a fright appearing out of nowhere right in front of her!

"Hello again, Petunia," he addressed her softly but with a cold countenance. An arrogant smirk played at his lips. "I knew I'd eventually be running into you again, being Potter's aunt. Although, I thought it would've been long before now considering his tendency towards shamelessly flouting the school rules and his careless acceptance of the poor marks he receives in my class. How long has it been, now? Twenty years?"

But Petunia didn't hear him. Whether it was from the sheer shock of having someone appear right before her eyes or the exertion that the events of her morning had caused her, she couldn't exactly say. She didn't have time to think about it before the world went black. Fainting away, her body landed lifelessly at the unexpected guest's feet.

*~*~*~*~*

Check out my website at and read my Live Journal at 


	3. Chapter 2: Dirty Little Secret

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This story is dedicated to my lovely reviewers: athenakitty, tawnyfawn, M. Black, Hannah, Kemenran, and Wo Ai Ni16. Thanks for reading and reviewing!!

Characters are now beginning to act OOC, so if that turns you off, please turn away now. Flames will be converted into energy.

You know the drill, Fiona Shaw is Aunt Petunia, Daniel Radcliff is Harry and whoever else is mentioned ;o) is the person that plays him. LOL

The chapter title and lyrics at the beginning of the story come from the song "Dirty Little Secret" by Sarah McLachlan

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Chapter 2: Dirty Little Secret

If I had the chance, love   
I would not hesitate   
To tell you all things I never said before   
Don't tell me its too late   
'Cause I've relied on my illusion   
to keep me warm at night   
and I've denied in my capacity to love   
but I am willing to give up this fight   


  
Been up all night drinking to drown my sorrows down   
But nothing seems to help me since you've gone away   
I'm so tired of this town where every tongue is wagging   
When every back is turned   
They're telling secrets that should never be revealed   
There's nothing to be gained from this but disaster   


  
Here's a good one   
Did you hear about my friend   
He's embarrassed to be seen now   
'Cause we all know his sins   


  
If I had the chance, love   
I would not hesitate   
To tell you all things I never said before   
Don't tell me its too late   
'Cause I've relied on my illusion   
to keep me warm at night   
and I've denied in my capacity to love   
But I am willing to give up this fight   
Oh I am willing to give up this fight

Petunia felt indescribable as she floated about amid a horizonless eternity containing infinite nothingness. There was a slight breeze blowing gently against her face, kissing her skin with warmth. Nothing but clear, light blue skies and puffy, white clouds surrounded her for miles in every direction. She felt too good to question where she was. Strangely, she didn't even want to analyze the fact that she seemed to be hovering in the sky far from anything remotely resembling Earth and civilization. It just seemed natural to be suspended in midair in the midst of emptiness as if she'd done it her entire life. Finally, she was free! Free from the bothersome demands of being a wife, mother, housekeeper, cook, laundress... and aunt and sister... 

Harry and Lily.

In a split second, the blue sky darkened until it was black and the white clouds disappeared. In the blink of an eye, night had abruptly seized the sky and robbed her of the immense happiness she'd briefly experienced, replacing it with seeds of misery, despair, sorrow, anger, fear, worry... It felt as though all her ecstasy had been swallowed up by the blackness that had now engulfed her. 

Then she began to fall.

Rapidly, she plunged downward toward the eternal abyss below her causing the pit of her stomach to lurch and tickle. As hard as she tried to breathe, she could only manage a few, abbreviated breaths. It seemed that her lungs had shut down as well as the rest of her body. She couldn't blink or move her limbs. Were her eyes even open??? Was she in her body??? In this darkness, she could find no answers. Reality and illusion had fused together and her brain couldn't tear them apart. 

As she descended at a rate which normally would've killed any living being, she braced herself for her ultimate death when she heard that voice in her head again. Never before had she been so pleased to hear it! Calmly and softly, it talked to her, _Think of something happy._

Petunia didn't think twice and put forth as much effort as she could muster to think happy thoughts. Her once blank mind now filled itself with colorful scenes of times long passed. Quickly, she tried to find a happy memory and in her mind appeared a memory of her wedding day. She could hear the music playing faintly in the background as she walked down the aisle towards a younger Vernon. He was in his black tuxedo standing with the priest who was fixed in front of the altar, waiting to join the young couple in marriage. Amazingly, she could even recall the various thoughts that were shooting through her head as she walked passed the many pews.

She kept falling. 

With haste, she cast that memory from her mind, and attempted to focus on another. As difficult as it was, Petunia knew that she'd better think of something fast as this endless tunnel of darkness couldn't go on forever, could it? Slowly, a memory came to her. She recognized herself wearing a dampened white gown lying in a hospital bed with a plump, bald baby laying loosely in her arms. The look on her face in the memory puzzled her, for no smile or look of adulation graced her weary face, only tears. While most mothers hold their new babies near their hearts upon being united outside of the womb, her new lad still lay where the doctor had placed him on her belly. With all her might, she concentrated on this one memory, hoping that it would be the one to save her from impending doom. However, when she failed to stop her descent, she decided that she'd better think harder, although she didn't know what would be classified as being a "happy thought". 

Several memories flashed her mind... of Vernon, Dudley, of her Ladies' Tea Society, her Homemakers' Club, her parents. And then quite unexpectedly, she saw a familiar pair of green eyes that belonged to only two people that she knew of. In that instant, she felt something grab her hand and clasp it firmly. She knew it was a human hand for she could feel thin fingers, but they were so deathly cold. It was as if she was grasping a hand made of solid ice.

Her breathing was erratic and she tried to calm herself by taking a few deep breaths. She was curious as to what saved her. Darkness still cloaked her surroundings, and when she looked up to see what had caught hold of her, she gasped in fright when she saw nothing. There was nothing there, but yet she felt a hand gripping hers! Then something resembling two miniscule swirls stirred in the distance, just above where her hand was suspended in the air. In a few seconds, the swirls became two glowing, bright green eyes, followed by a fair face which was promptly fill in by peach colored skin and completed by brilliant red hair... 

"Lily!" Petunia whispered in utter shock.

The remaining part of her dead sister's body filled in and Petunia could now see the hand that had saved her from the dark pit that lay beneath waiting for its prey. Lily seemed to be floating as Petunia had done before she'd been thrust into this oblivion. She smiled down at her older sister and Petunia recalled how reassuring Lily's bright, smiling face had been in the most tumultuous of thunderstorms, breakups with boyfriends and general bad days. Being the older sister, _she _was suppose to be the one that Lily looked up to, not the other way around!

A twinge of jealousy of which Petunia was all too well acquainted with washed over her body. For the first time since before Lily's death, she felt as though her body were afire, fueled by her well-preserved hatred. Her skin burned and she could feel the heat rising from within. Feelings that she hadn't felt in years, that had laid dormant, now had awakened and were on the defense.

Surprisingly, she felt Lily's hand begin to melt, but she wasn't even scared. A worried looked crossed her auburn haired sister's face and panicking she said, "Come on, Petunia, let me help you!"

Echoes trailed her anxious words, but they only served to heightened Petunia's hostility. Narrowing her eyes in utter contempt, she spat each word in utmost rancor, "Never! You've helped me enough by dumping that son of yours on me!"

The hand melted a little more now and she could feel the water drip down her arm and into her sleeve. Astonishingly, before her eyes, Lily shrank into her child-self, just the way Petunia had remembered her the day she'd saved her from that frightful fall from the tree. This antagonized Petunia even further. She was so consumed with animosity that there was no room left for fear.

Once again, Lily pleaded with her sister, but now it sounded childlike and innocent, "Please, Petunia! Climb up, hurry!"

Looking up at Lily's little cherubic, pained face with deep disgust, she screamed, "NEVER!! LET GO OF MY HAND!!"

But Lily didn't let go, though her hand had almost totally melted away. Reaching up, Petunia attempted to pry her hand out of her sister's without success. It was as if they were glued together. _Damn, Lily!_ It was like all those other times she'd try to "come to the rescue" when they were little! Couldn't she ever keep to her own business! All those horrid memories of times past came rushing back uncontrollably into Petunia's conscious, one after another.

What was left of the icy hand let go, and Petunia's fingers slipped out of it's grasp. Once again, she was at the behest of the unknown. She fell further and further away and eventually, Lily disappeared from sight. In a matter of seconds, she felt her head collide with something. Enormous pain shot through her body.

Petunia awoke, feeling like she'd just crashed into her body. Flinging open her eyes, she was thankful to discover that she was laying on the couch in her living room. There was no sound but the ticking of the clock that hung on the wall just above her. She was almost relieved to find herself in her own house except that she was laying on her nice clean couch in her dirty clothes. Inwardly she cringed. _Oh, well, something else to do later_, she thought to herself.

__

But wait a minute, I was suppose to be cleaning something else... What was I suppose to be cleaning?

Thoughts were muddled in her head and any coherency was lost to confusion. Trying to form one lucid thought was painful, just like her throbbing head. It felt as though she'd been bludgeoned. Her head hurt so much that she could feel it pulsating onto the pillow she lay on. _What happened to me? Surely it was just a dream!_ The pain seemed to worsen the more she thought. She would've been content to lay for the rest of the evening on the couch except that she couldn't stand wearing such dirty clothes and having them so close to her couch. 

Slowly, she raised up and at once felt lightheaded. Closing her eyes, she fervently hoped that the world around her would stop swirling long enough so that she could get upstairs to her bedroom and change clothes. Then she'd crawl into bed and sleep soundly until tomorrow morning. It sounded like a good plan to her, but the fact remained that she had a dirty kitchen floor to clean.

Petunia sighed, triggering more pain from her head. Cleaning was not a duty to be shirked because dirt and garbage tended to multiply if left for too long. Tediously, she put her right foot on the floor, followed by the left. Little by little, she lifted herself off the couch and that's when her focus blurred. Was she spinning or was it the room? Holding on dearly to whatever was in her path, she miraculously made her way into the kitchen. Even through her contorted vision, she was dumbfounded to find that there was not a trace of dirt to be found on the floor.

Something wasn't right. What was she forgetting? Had she cleaned the dirt up and forgotten doing it?? Why was her head hurting?? It was if she'd hit her head... _But that was just a dream! Dreams aren't real!_ She couldn't remember laying down for a nap, either. It was strange that she'd lay down in the middle of the day to rest. Naps were not her forte, they were reserved for the slothful. Why couldn't she recall anything??

"Yes, I took the liberty of cleaning up your mess. Did you have a nice nap, _Mrs._ Dursley?" Asked a steady, rich voice from behind her.

Instantly, she regretted spinning around to get a look at the man with the sallow face and black hair. Wincing in great pain, she grabbed her head and groaned. If she hadn't have latched onto the countertop next to her, she would've fallen over. Knowing better, she didn't scream at the sight of him, though if she'd been in a better condition, she would've.

The sharpness in his voice thawed a bit, and only a bit, and was replaced with concern, "Perhaps we should sit down." He started towards her and extended his hand.

Composing herself, she retorted venomously, "Get out of my house!!! You are not welcome here!"

Then she remembered. She'd been scrubbing the floor when he'd appeared out of no where causing her to faint. For almost twenty years, she'd not seen him nor heard about him, and she was glad. He had no business disrupting her life like this! Now, even more than before, she wanted him out of her house!

The frigidity returned to his voice, "There is a reason I have come here. I don't take unwarranted trips to see families of impertinent students unless I am asked by the headmaster. I would appreciate it if you sat down... NOW!"

Undaunted, she refused to back down. Rage filled her body from the depths of her soul. Narrowing her eyes, each word was spat out of her mouth and into the face of the man before her. "I will NOT sit down! I know what you are, you foul, pathetic excuse for a man!! Are you still killing and torturing mudbloods??"

For a second, a saddened expression crossed his face but then was overshadowed by fierceness matching her own, yet his voice remained even holed by rare emotion. "You need not speak of things of which you know nothing about!"

Screaming, she retorted, "I know enough! Enough that I never wanted anything else to do with your nasty world! Now get out!"

"Petunia..." he growled.

If possible, her glare intensified. "Don't call me that! It's _Mrs. Dursley_ to you! I'm married now."

He put his hands behind his back and took a step closer to where she was standing, his eyes fixed intently upon her face. Petunia couldn't tell if he was reading her or if it was merely just another expression he frequently donned when addressing others. Twenty years ago she could've deciphered his look, but now she had only fleeting memories of the reasoning behind a curled lip or a creased forehead. They used to read each other so well. From across a crowded room, all she had to do was merely catch a glimpse of his cryptic face and she would be able to read his most complicated thoughts. He could do the same with her. They never had to utter a single word. So, how could she have so grossly misinterpreted him?? How did she not know what he was capable of?? How could she not foresee that he would join the Death Eaters?? 

At that moment, she was many years away from the present. Not even realizing what she was saying, she whispered, "Why...?"

"Excuse me?"

She snapped back to reality to see him staring questioningly at her. Flustered and angry, she said, "State your business and get out!"

"It's not as simple as that," he sneered gloatingly. He appeared proud that he had unnerved her so well. However, she was not one that would beaten.

"I suggest you make it simple! What would I do if the neighbors saw you here in my house?!" It had only just struck her that any one of her neighbors could be watching them through her open windows at this very minute. Struggling with her aching head and dizziness, she made her way to the nearest window and roughly jerked the curtains together. She scurried along every wall in the room and did the same to each window. As she moved about, her headache was forgotten.

When she pulled the last one to, she told him, "Out with it!"

"Gladly," he snarled. "It seems that the headmaster thinks that after the events of last year, Potter needs to someone to watch him more closely. He doesn't think that his mother's charm will be enough to protect him now since the Death Eaters have escaped Azkaban and rejoined the resurrected Dark Lord. So, he sent me here to keep watch and make sure that Potter doesn't do anything stupid, Of course, I find it hard to imagine him _not_ doing anything fraught with stupidity."

"Wait a minute," Petunia interrupted impatiently. She strode from the other side of the room to stand in front of him. "You mean to tell me that a Death Eater is working for the headmaster of Hogwarts??" She laughed heartily. "So, the Death Eaters escaped Azkaban? How did it feel to see your old friends again?"

He raised his voice in anger. "You don't know half the things of which you speak! That was twenty years ago! If you'd stayed around long enough, Petunia, you would've discovered..."

She cut him off, yelling, "You are not permitted to call by that anymore, _Severus Snape_! You will call me _Mrs. Dursley_! I am married and have a son!"

"Believe me, I am well aware of that fact, _Mrs. _Dursley! I know what day you were married and I even know the day your son was born! Don't think that I had not put aside my pride and begged Albus Dumbledore to choose someone else to send here instead of me!

"Don't think for a minute, _Mrs._ Dursley, that you ever hurt any more than I did!"

"You should've told me," she hissed bitterly.

"You should've trusted me," he barked back through clenched teeth.

"How could you ask me to trust you when your leader killed my sister? Do you know how hard it's been to raise that son of hers??"

"I can only imagine. If he's as useless and arrogant at home as he is at school then you have my deepest sympathies."

She didn't answer that. So, the Death Eaters have fled from Azkaban and they've rejoined their master... No wonder Harry had been withdrawn and sullen all summer. Guilt crept up into her conscious at the mere thought of her nephew and his words, _"You know, I don't hate Uncle Vernon or even Dudley as much as I hate you! You know why?! Because you were suppose to love me and want me! You are my aunt! My mother's sister!"_ Perhaps she shouldn't have been so harsh with him and sent him out of the house they way she did. However, she was glad that Harry hadn't heard her Severus's conversation. For years, she'd lived as though she had no part of her sister's world. How would she explain to Harry that she was more acquainted with that "other" world than she had previously let on? 

"How long are you planning to stay?" she asked suspiciously.

"Until school resumes in late summer."

That was a month and a half away! What would Vernon think to come home and find this wretched man here?? And how about her Dudley?? She didn't want him to see this man every waking moment until he went off to school! And what if Severus let it "slip" that they'd known each other years ago? Vernon would have a fit! Oh, God, what if the neighbors found out?? Nobody knew that her sister had been a witch or that her nephew was a wizard. 

"Can't you take him to Hogwarts? Surely he would be protected there." She said dryly.

"There is no one presently at Hogwarts and I am not going to be his caretaker and, therefore, be solely responsible for him each and every day until September 1st. I believe that is _your_ job." He smirked.

"Well, Vernon is not going to be happy about this and I can't have you upsetting my son! I won't allow it!"

"You don't have a choice," he said in a smooth, taunting voice.

Petunia knew he was right. What could _she_ do? She'd just have to wait for Vernon to come home and deal with the matter. It was clear that nothing she said was going to make him leave. In the mean time, she'd do her best to ignore him. It wouldn't be hard. Hopefully, he'd refrain from mentioning anything about the past as it was a long time ago and much had changed. She'd gone on with her life and perhaps he had, too, although there was a part of her deep inside that hoped that he'd suffered things worse than death all these years. There was no room in her life to dwell on the past as she had a loving husband, an adorable, handsome boy who looked every bit like his father and a nice house in a pleasant neighborhood, but seeing Severus again awakened a tiny part of her that once belonged to him and would always await his return. She promised herself that no matter what she would not betray herself to the emotions and feelings that had flooded her heart twenty years ago. This was a man that had deceived her and he as good as killed her sister, even if it wasn't him who actually did it.

Her head was once again her primary focus when the pain became even more excruciating than before. Walking passed Severus, she went to look for some aspirin in the kitchen cupboard where she kept the medicine. Opening the small bottle, she shook it until three tablets fell into her hand. Popping the tablets in her mouth, she went to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottled water with which she washed the tablets down. 

"Headache?" he asked nonchalantly. 

"Why do you care?"

"Your fall was most unpleasant..." 

Cutting him off, she replied angrily, "Don't worry about it."

"Believe me, _Mrs. Dursley_, I wasn't intending to make it a matter of personal concern," he shot back. "But if I may ask, where exactly is Potter? I've been here several hours already and have seen no sign of him? Surely, you haven't killed him, yet? That wouldn't sit well with the Minister of Magic."

Petunia's eyes widened. In a hushed voice she rebuked him furiously, "Don't you dare speak that word in my house! And especially don't say it around my husband and son! As for Harry, I don't know where he is. I sent him out of the house this morning."

A look of alarm appeared suddenly on Severus's face. "You sent him _out_?! Why did you do an idiotic thing like that?! Do you realize that there are Death Eaters out there looking for him?!"

Crossing her arms, Petunia glowered at him. "You mean, other than the one in my house at this moment insulting me?! The headmaster told Vernon and me when we took him in that no one would find out where he lived. How was I suppose to know that it had stopped working!?"

Severus was growing impatient. "It hasn't stopped working, but the Dark Lord and his followers are well-schooled in magic so dark, that even the magic of the best, most brilliant of wizards does not stand a chance against it."

"Isn't it fitting, then, that _you_ were sent to watch over Harry?" she asked sarcastically, "How do I know that you're not the Death Eater elected to finish him off?! The headmaster may trust you now, but I certainly don't!"

"Can't you make an intelligent decision for once and leave the past in the past?!"

Hurtful tears welled up in her blue eyes and threatened to fall. Livid and upset, she exclaimed, "I tried! I married Vernon, I had our son and everything was wonderful and grand until I opened the front door one morning to find a baby laying on my doorstep! Not just any baby, either, it was my _witch_ sister's baby! Everything that I ever tried to forget came back to smack me in the face that day and I've had to face it everyday since then! All the normality and stability that I could ever ask for, Vernon gave it to me and I don't want you here messing it up!"

Severus's eyes were dark and his mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something but was restraining himself. Petunia didn't know why he refrained from speaking until she followed the path of his eyes. Turning around, saw Harry standing the kitchen doorway, not looking the least bit happy.

__

Oh God, Petunia prayed earnestly, _I hope he didn't hear anything!_


	4. Chapter 3: Iris

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This story is dedicated to all my great reviewers, but especially to my Live Journal friend, KatieScarlet (who makes awesome Severus/Petunia icons ;o)

As I've said before, Aunt Petunia is Fiona Shaw, Snape is Alan Rickman and Harry is Daniel Radcliff.

The lyrics are from the song "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls. I chose this song to write to because throughout this fic, we deal with a lot of superficiality from Petunia, and also from Severus as well. They lives their lives through their eyes, not though their hearts. They have desires, just like everyone else, but because of their personality, it's difficult for them to convey these desires. Just a thought to think upon as you read the fic.

Thanks so much for reading! 

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Chapter 3: Iris

__

And I'd give up forever to touch you   
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow   
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be   
And I don't wanna go home right now 

  
  
And all I could taste is this moment   
And all I can breath is your life   
And sooner or later it's over   
I just don't wanna miss you tonight   


  
And I don't want the world to see me   
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand   
When everything's made to be broken   
I just want you to know who I am   


  
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming   
Or the moment of truth in your lies   
When everything feels like the movies   
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

  
And I don't want the world to see me   
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand   
When everything's made to be broken   
I just want you to know who I am   


  
I just want you to know who I am   


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Petunia blinked a few times, trying to remove the tears that stung her eyes. Because they'd blurred her vision, she couldn't discern Harry's facial expression, so she was unable to tell if he'd heard her and Severus's conversation. She felt silly standing before her nephew with tears glistening in her eyes, but she thought that to wipe them away would be too conspicuous and she didn't want to draw attention to herself. Why had she let Severus get her so angry and distraught?! No one else but he had the power to reduce her to nothing more than a pathetic, emotional pile of rubbish on the floor. Not even Vernon could trigger a reaction from her as powerful. She was embarrassed at the thought of herself crying and aggravated that Severus held this control over her. If Harry had heard anything, so help the both of them! 

"What's he doing here?!" Harry yelled as he directed a scowl of deepest disgust towards the potions master. He'd stopped dead in his tracks at the doorframe of the kitchen, both surprised and furious to see his least favorite Hogwarts professor standing in his aunt and uncle's house. 

"Careful, Potter," Snape growled, "I am still a professor, summer or not. You will not talk to me in such a tone!"

Before either could say another word, Petunia interrupted, still afraid that her nephew had heard more than he should've. She tried to conceal the fear in her voice as she admonished him harshly, "You know better than to eavesdrop! It's highly rude to listen in on other people's conversations, especially when it doesn't concern you! How long have you been standing there?"

"I just got here," Harry answered curtly. His eyes, which were now narrow slits, still focused intensely on the menacing form of his professor. Without averting his eyes, he asked his aunt, "What were you talking about?"

Petunia opened her mouth to say something, but Severus beat her to it. "As your aunt has already told you, it doesn't concern you." His black robes rippled at his side as he sauntered closer to Harry, but kept distance enough away. "What does concern you, though, is that the headmaster has sent me to make sure you don't do anything moronic and foolish this summer," a smug look crossed his sallow face. 

"What are you talking about?" snarled Harry, now even more infuriated. 

"Watch your tone," Severus warned threateningly. "I'm going to be staying here until you are scheduled to return to Hogwarts. You and I are to resume the Occlumency lessons as Professor Dumbledore thinks it's imperative that you master it after the most _unfortunate _event in June concerning Sirius Black." Sarcasm heavily coated the word "unfortunate" while he donned a ruthless, yet mirthful smirk.

"No!" Petunia adamantly shouted and both Severus and Harry turned to look at her. "You will NOT be doing magic in this house! You will have to find somewhere else to do it!"

Severus retorted, "And where else are we suppose to go?"

"You popped in here from somewhere, so I suggest you find somewhere you can pop out to," she said, crossing her arms and putting her foot down. She was not going to let this man take over her house! 

Severus didn't get a chance to respond as Harry jumped in brazenly, "If Dumbledore wants me to learn Occlumency, he's going to have to teach me himself! If my life depended on you, I'd rather die!"

Inching closer, the professor was close enough that he could reach out and grab the boy by the neck and choke him until his last bit of life melted from the scrawny fifteen-year old body before him. His words left his lips in his deepest, silkiest tone, "Whether you live or die is of no concern to me, but I would think that _you_'d be concerned for the lives of your innocent friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. What happened to Sirius Black could most certainly happen to them, and then _you_ would be responsible for their deaths. Are you stupid enough to think that you can fight and protect them against Death Eaters and the Dark Lord armed with only a wand and a few mere curses?? I'd have thought you would've learned your lesson, but apparently it's impossible for anything to be absorbed through that thick head of yours. Your professors think of you as one so brilliant and gallant, but if you were so brilliant you would've known that the Dark Lord was just using you to get what he wanted. Your stupidity is mistaken for bravery and intelligence, and THAT is what caused your dear godfather's death." 

"ENOUGH!!"

Petunia shouted loud enough that her voice slightly echoed throughout the kitchen. Startled, Severus jerked his head in her direction and Harry, who's eyes were narrowed substantially and mouth was nothing more than a thin line on his reddened face, tore his face from his professor's to give his aunt the same loathsome, hate-filled look before brashly turning to bolt up the stairs. His every step made a resounding and pointed "thud" as he rapidly ascended the staircase. Petunia knew when he'd gotten to his room when she heard the thunderous slam of his door which caused the walls of the house to shake. 

"Just like his father!" Severus sneered. "No regard for authority whatsoever."

But Petunia, who at any other time would not be one to take up for her nephew, didn't agree. Instead she was livid that anyone would feel comfortable enough in her home to speak to one of her family members like that, be it Harry or Vernon or Dudley.

"If your are going to remain in this house, _Mr._ Snape, then I'd suggest that you refrain from talking to those who live under my roof in the manner that you just did!"

He cocked an eyebrow, "So you don't agree with me that the surly Mr. Potter lacks discipline and sorely needs to be reminded to show respect to his elders?"

She threw her hands on her hips. "It's not for you to decide when my nephew needs discipline! He's not at school and he hasn't done anything wrong except find you repulsive. So, if you're going to punish everyone who can't stand the sight of you, then be prepared to punish everyone that you come into contact with!"

At that precise moment, the pair heard a loud bang that came from the floor above them, more specifically, Harry's bedroom. Petunia looked up toward the ceiling of the kitchen, puzzled. _What on Earth was the boy doing? _She could hear more muffled clamor and heavy footsteps. At the same time, Petunia and Severus realized what Harry was planning to do.

They both made a hasty start for the stairs. When Petunia saw that Severus had brandished his wand and intended to accompany her, presumably to further antagonize Harry, she stuck out her hand to stop him from following.

"Oh no you don't! You've done enough! You wait down here!" she spat disdainfully. Just before disappearing up the staircase, she looked back at a scowling Severus and brusquely added, "And put that thing away!"

Up the stairs and to Harry's bedroom door she went, the ruckus getting louder with her every step. As she got closer, she could hear drawers being opened and shut and things being moved and cast about. Without bothering to knock, Petunia threw open the door. Harry stopped momentarily, shocked at his aunt's sudden intrusion, but then resumed his activities.

Petunia saw his opened trunk sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor, half full with his things. She saw a few unfolded shirts that had been tossed carelessly in there along with some books and various scattered papers. Harry had his back turned to her as he finished clearing his stuff out of a bureau drawer. After collecting an armful of his belongings, he stomped over to his trunk and hurriedly dropped them inside.

Before speaking, she watched him move back and forth several times between the bureau and the trunk, waiting for him to say something first. Several minutes passed before she finally gave in to the fact that he wasn't going to talk any time soon. "Are you planning on going somewhere without my permission?" Petunia snapped as she crossed her arms, eyeing him inquisitively. She knew all too well that he was planning to run away.

"Do you care?" Harry retorted angrily. He kept right on packing.

"Yes, I do. As I understand it, you're not to leave this house."

He whirled around to face her, his wand, now in his hand, was pointed straight at his aunt. She was taken by surprise at the sight of having the instrument pointed at her so threateningly. "I've taken care of myself for the last five years. I've done things and been through things that no one else has been through, things that no one else would understand! And I'm _not_ going to stay here this summer with you _and_ Snape breathing down my neck, making my life miserable!"

"Put that thing away! I've had enough of those things in my house!" Petunia ordered. Harry didn't budge.

"I won't!" he stammered. Petunia saw that his wand quivered slightly and she could hear Harry's accelerated breathing as he looked at her with extreme contempt. This did not deter her. She then took a small step towards Harry, resulting in a look of bewilderment to overcome his sweaty face. 

"You know how I feel about those things," she gestured towards the wand, "put it away. NOW!"

"No! I'm leaving and you're not going to stop me!"

"Oh??" she raised her eyebrows. "And just where will you go?"

"I have friends... I'll go to my best friend, Ron's house. His mother _likes_ having me around. And I like being around them!"

"Your professor told me that you're to stay here, that it's not safe for you to go gallivanting around because there are some people from _your world_ out to get you."

"That's probably just some excuse of his to keep me here so that he can insult me and my parents and Sirius for the rest of the summer. I'm sure you'd love that, wouldn't you? Too bad Uncle Vernon's not here to join in the fun. Isn't it only fitting that the worst of the wizarding world, save Voldemort, meet up with the worst in the Muggle world??" Harry snickered at the cruel irony.

Petunia saw a flicker of sadness in the boy's angry, defiant eyes. His arms dropped to his side, his wand lowered and now aimlessly pointed towards the floor. The voice inside of Petunia's head revisited her and suddenly, she felt pity for this orphaned boy. It was as if she could see her own Dudley standing in his place. Was it the voice making her feel these things or was she experiencing these emotions of her own accord?

In any event, she couldn't have Harry going off on his own. If he got himself killed, it would be her fault and while her husband probably couldn't care a less, Severus would not be so apathetic. More importantly, Harry was her dead sister's only son and though she hadn't gotten along with Lily, deep down, Petunia felt that she owed it to her sister to make sure Harry lived to a ripe, old age.

"When I found you on our doorstep, I also found a letter that was addressed to me. In it, I was told that you had to live with me for the simple reason that I shared the same blood with your mother, as do you and I. Because of this, you're protected from some... man--that man that killed your parents. For this to work, you have to live under the same roof that I do. So Harry, if you still want to leave, go ahead, but I'm afraid that I'll have to come with you."

Pausing, she stopped to gather her wits about her and held her breath. She didn't really plan on leaving, she only intended to call her nephew's bluff. In an instant, though, the sadness dissipated from his eyes and his bitterness resurfaced.

"Why can't you just let me leave?! You don't want me here anyway! You never wanted me here! You've made it obvious my entire life that you wished that I'd never been dropped off to live with you and Uncle Vernon. Why do you care what happens to me? At least I'll be gone!"

Uneasiness settled in Petunia's stomach and spread throughout her body. It was true, she'd never had a kind word for the boy, constantly criticizing him when she wasn't ignoring him. Vernon was the same way, if not worse. But something had changed since last summer. And after this morning in the garden, she'd opened up a part of herself that let her feel something towards Harry and his mother.

But she couldn't think of those silly things right now. It was important that she keep Harry in the house. If not, she'd have to deal with Severus and probably those Ministry people as well. Once they found out that Harry had run away, they'd swamp the house, and how would she explain to the neighbors why all those funny looking people were walking around outside her home??

Shortness returned to Petunia's voice as she spoke, "It's simple. If you leave this house, I go with you. And don't think that you'll easily slip away under your professor's nose. Once he knows that you're gone, he's going to alert everyone he knows and they'll all be looking for you. And once you're found, you'll probably be placed under closer watch and be subject to the scrutiny of Severus every single day until the summer's end."

At the mention of Snape's first name, Harry's head snapped up. Forgetting what his aunt told him that morning about asking questions, fraught with curiosity he inquired, "You called Snape by his first name. How do you know his name?"

Immediately, she realized her mistake. She hadn't wanted to give it away that she knew Severus or anything about the wizarding world. After mentioning last year that she knew what dementors were, Vernon had been kind of wary of her in the days that followed. How stupid could she have been to let that small bit of information slip?! Thinking fast, she said the first thing that came to mind.

"Your mother was a witch, wasn't she?? It was inevitable that I meet her freaky friends when we would drop her off and pick her up at the train station." For the second time that evening, Petunia held her breath and waited for a response from Harry. As the curiosity faded from his face, she could tell that he was satisfied with her answer.

Glancing around at the messy room, she winced. It was a total wreak, much like herself at the moment. Her hands were shaking and traces of her headache yearned to return to wreak havoc on her head. But there was still a boy--not a hero or a survivor but just a boy of fifteen, who felt all alone in the world, standing before her pitifully and dejected. 

In a soft voice but not without its usual emotional detachedness, Petunia instructed him firmly, "Harry, unpack your things and clean your room up." He didn't move, but rather continued to look downward at his foot that playfully kicked at the trunk. The matter seem settled. Harry appeared to be staying at Privet Drive, but she wasn't going to give up her guard that easy. There was still a chance that the boy would run away the first opportunity that came along.

A little louder, she asked him, "Did you hear me, Harry?"

Without raising his head to look at his aunt, Harry mumbled quite resignedly, "Yes, Aunt Petunia..."

"And you won't try to run away, will you?" Petunia pressed him, wanting to impress the idea upon him that if he ran away the consequences would be dire. Her words were laced with a trickle of fear and worry. 

Once again, he muttered, "No, Aunt Petunia."

"Good," she said as she stiffened her composure, satisfied, for the moment at least, with his answer. "I'll be up in about an hour to check on you." He didn't say anything. His attention was drawn to a small orange ball that he was now shuffling halfheartedly between his feet.

Turning, Petunia went towards the door, but just as she was about to leave and close it behind her, she turned back around and paused to stare at the boy. Never before in his fifteen years had he given her such cause to be captivated by him. Perhaps it was just because Vernon and her Popkin were gone. For the last month she'd been stuck in the house with only Harry for company, so it was only natural that she missed her husband and son so much that she began to take solace in Harry's presence. Right?? She wasn't going soft on him, was she? After all, his mother was a witch, his father was a wizard and he was some kind of unnatural combination of the two. Vernon had told her for years that nothing good could come of those people. And she'd believed him. He was always right, wasn't he? Vernon loved her, so he would never lie to her, would he? People like her sister and nephew were the outcasts, the freaks. 

So, then why did she not feel so superior right now? Why didn't she feel like rubbing it in his face that Severus Snape would be here all summer, content that he would be able to torture his obviously least favorite student? Probably because she felt tortured as well, due to Severus's untimely appearance in her life. He was included in a life that she'd reluctantly and bitterly left behind several years before meeting Vernon. Now, he was a threat to her present life, that of marriage and motherhood and neighborhood teas and socials and garden parties... 

Life with Vernon hadn't been nearly as complicated and as traumatic as it had been with Severus. She never had to work for Vernon had always provided more than adequately for her. In return, she'd given him a son of which he could be enormously proud. And one child had been enough, especially after Harry had been dropped at their doorstep. Though she'd done her duty in providing Vernon with a child, the maternal instinct was just not present in herself. So, to the best of her knowledge, she'd tried to rear little Diddykins the best way she knew how and gave him all the love that she could. 

She hadn't liked being pregnant as the pregnancy had been difficult and she'd spent the most part of it either ill or on bed rest. It had been difficult carrying such a large, round "bump" on her skinny, little body. The only thing she remembered was wanting the thing growing inside of her to hurry up and be born so she could go back to being normal, however she never dared tell Vernon that. All he did from the moment she'd found out she was expecting their baby was go around proudly telling everyone that he knew it was a boy. He'd been so ecstatic from the time he had come home from work when she'd told him that she was pregnant until the very day Dudley was born. The day after she'd told Vernon her news, she came down to start breakfast to find a breathtaking diamond bracelet in a black velvet jewelry box. Though it was a lovely gift, she couldn't help but wonder, did Vernon give her this gift out of the love that he had for her or for mere appreciation that she was to sire his child? 

Over the years, he'd bought her gifts here and there and promised vacation homes in France and Italy. He never once raised his voice to her and he never held it against her that her sister was a witch. She was grateful that he married her despite her freaky sister, for Vernon was an utter gentleman and was, without exception, loving towards her. But there was always something missing between her and her husband. Love wasn't a question, for with each year, she grew fonder of him. It was almost as if she kept waiting for some part of Vernon or for some aspect of their marriage to recapture the same emotional and sensual highs and lows that she felt with Severus. 

Severus.

The man's name sent an ice cold chill down her spine. Outwardly, she shuddered so violently that she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Aunt Petunia?"

The voice of her nephew broke through her internal thoughts and slowly her eyes refocused upon the scene before her. Harry was looking in her direction and she could discern mild concern on his face. At that moment, she was wholly vulnerable and raw. She wished Vernon would come home, now more than ever.

"Clean your room, Harry," she briskly told him before shutting the door to the bedroom behind her.

Down the stairs she went and as she quietly walked into the living room area, she saw Severus standing in front of the fireplace with his back to her. As per his usual manner, he was standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back. From the back, he looked to her as he had looked all those years ago. For a second, she could almost believe that she was twenty years old again. It was remarkable how he had managed to look so much the same except for his face. There were lines and creases on his face that hadn't been present the last time she'd caressed his face. His hair was still long, and just as jet black as it had always been...

"I do believe it's impolite to stare, Mrs. Dursley," Severus's low, rich voice filled the silence in the same way a wisp of smoke unfurls from a freshly snuffed out candle.

Walking over to where he stood, she came to a stop beside him. He refrained from looking at her, instead, his attention was focused on the framed picture before him on the mantle.

"So, is the invincible Mr. Potter going to run away and send the wizarding world into an uproar once again as they try to locate his whereabouts?" 

All sense of complacency disappeared at his sarcasm, giving rise to the virulence that lay buried just beneath the surface of her skin, always ready to emerge when she felt extreme loathing.

"No," she answered tersely. "And let's get a couple of things straight. You might be Harry's professor, but you will NOT talk to him in such a manner as you did today. You will NOT mention his parents or his godfather."

Petunia could feel that Severus was slightly perturbed at being told what to do. He never liked taking orders from anyone.

"My purpose for being here is not to discuss Potter's parents or his beloved godfather. I'm here on orders from Dumbledore to watch him and to teach him Occlumency."

"I don't care why you're here, just as long as I know you'll be leaving. And when you leave, I never want you to step into this house again."

The two of them stood in silence in front of the fireplace several more minutes looking at all the pictures of the Dursley family that decorated the mantle. Petunia only looked at Severus when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reaching for something on the mantle. He had a framed portrait of Vernon, Dudley and herself in his hand!

"What do you think you're doing?! Put that down!" she yelled, horrorstruck that this despicable man had the gall to touch anything in her house. 

He turned to her and shoved the picture into her hand. 

"Do you know what I see when I look at this, _Mrs._ Dursley??" he spat venomously. His eyes were dark with fury and his anger was marked by the intensity of which he spoke. "I see a clever actress that has played so many different roles for so long that she's forgotten that they are just roles. No one knows it, though, because from the time she gets out of bed in the morning until the time she returns to it at night, she keeps herself busy making her husband happy, placating her child, cooking and cleaning, so that she doesn't have the time to think about how morbidly unhappy she is! So many years have passed now, that she doesn't even know _why_ she's unhappy!"

Petunia's eyes glossed over with tears and she let her rage be known. "You're the one to talk about happiness! Look at you! You don't look the epitome of a happy man to me!"

"But I don't pretend to be happy, either!" he shot back.

"You're wrong," she said almost in a whisper. But her tone of voice contradicted her words. "I am perfectly happy. You--You're the one who's suffered all this time, Severus, not me. What do you have to show for yourself?? NOTHING! You brought it all upon yourself when you joined those damned Death Eaters... Did you think I'd never find out?! Did you think you could keep it hidden from me?! Did I matter that little to you that you'd go off and join the other side?! Well, DID I?!"

In an eerily calm and steady voice, he asked her, "Is that what you honestly think of me?"

"Yes," she answered in a voice broken by her emotion.

"Then it's good you married your husband, _Mrs._ Dursley. You need someone whom you don't really love so that when they hurt you, you don't feel the pain."

"DAMN YOU!" Petunia screamed, releasing the anger that had been building up since Severus's arrival. She took the picture frame in her hand and threw it at Severus's head. He ducked just in time.

Now, she was even more mad that she hadn't at least physically harmed him. It took a lot to restrain herself from collecting all the frames on the mantle and throwing them at Severus one by one. How dare he speak to her in such a manner! And in her house, too!

"Get out of my sight!" she shouted.

Severus smirked, "Of course. Harry and I will be starting the Occlumency lessons at once."

"Fine."

"I remember you specifically stating that we aren't to do magic in the house..."

"I don't care where you do it, just as long as it's away from me and some place where the neighbors can't see it! Just get out of my sight!"

Silently, Severus left the room, headed for Harry's bedroom upstairs. Once she was sure that she wouldn't run into either of them, Petunia tiptoed upstairs and locked herself in her bedroom the rest of the night. Until the early morning hours, she thought longingly about her husband that was thousands of miles across the ocean as was her only child. The thought of having to share her house with Severus for the next month and a half nauseated her. Over and over again, she heard him speak those words that he had hurdled unfairly at her in the living room. Her stomach did a sickening lurch. Memories of Lily crept into her mind as well, as did images from her young adult life, especially the one day which brought her whole world crashing down. Eventually, just before the birds began to sing their morning tune, Petunia drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next few days passed by unceremoniously. For the most part, Petunia avoided Severus, and Harry gladly avoided both of them by remaining in his room at all times, unless his aunt had chores for him to do. Wherever Severus was, Petunia had made sure to be somewhere else. If he and Harry were practicing the "M" word in the house, then she was outside working in the garden. Actually, she was watching for nosy neighbors who might be trying to peer over the fence. Every so often she would look up from her work to suspiciously scan the yard for eavesdroppers. Since Severus's arrival, she feared that at least one of her neighbors would find out she had a freak living with her and tell every one else on the street. She had been extra careful to have the curtains closed at all times and had deferred visits from friends and neighbors.

The words that passed between the two adults were minimal and, though not as contemptuous an the mutual feelings they had for one another, their words didn't generate any feelings of warmth either. After two weeks of living like a prisoner in her own house plagued by feelings that she may go crazy if trapped in the house another minute, Vernon surprised his wife by coming home for a weekend. 

It was eight o'clock on a Friday morning when Petunia heard the front door open then shut. She had been eating breakfast alone in the kitchen and started to get up from the table when Vernon came walking into the kitchen with a big grin on his face. He sat his suitcases down on the kitchen floor. Never had she been happier or sorrier to see him. 

"Vernon!" she squeaked nervously as she hopped up from her chair and looked around hoping Severus would stay put wherever he was. She wanted to have the chance to explain to Vernon Harry's situation and the reasoning behind Severus's presence in the house. Vernon would most certainly _not_ be happy. The only thing that would stop him from throwing Harry and his professor out of the house would probably be to remind him of those people's words from the train station when they went to pick Harry up in June.

He came around the table to where Petunia stood and kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear, "How long has it been, a month, month and a half??"

It took her a minute to realize what he was alluding to. 

Quickly, she stumbled out of his reach and went to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen. "Vernon, there's something I need to talk to you about," she stammered, really not wanting to have to tell him about Severus.

He moved towards her, still grinning. She turned around to face the sink, wanting to deflect Vernon's romantic insinuations. Firstly, she had something that she needed to tell him before Severus showed up and ruined her plan therefore causing a more explosive confrontation than was needed. Secondly, she wasn't feeling the least bit romantic at the moment.

From behind her, her husband slipped his beefy arms around her tiny waist. She could feel his heightened breath beating wildly on her hair. "Where's the boy?"

"He's out for the day." she answered simply.

"Well, well, how convenient then. We have the house all to ourselves," he growled ever so slyly.

In his tight grip of her, Petunia whirled around to face him, catching him off guard a little bit.

"Vernon, I have to tell you something," she tried to say as he began nipping at her ear. She wanted him to stop. All the sudden, she couldn't stand to have him touch her. "Vernon... Vernon there's a wizard staying in our house!"

Silence.

At the word "wizard", Vernon abruptly stopped what he was doing and let go of his wife. Taking a step back from her, he eyed her concernedly and asked, "Petunia, dear, are you feeling all right?? We've known that about your nephew since he started that freaky school of his."

She shut her eyes in exasperation and sighed heavily, "No! Not Harry! His professor, Vernon. His professor has come to stay with us until Harry returns to school!"

It took a moment for Vernon to digest this information and when he did, his face was all shades of purple.

"WHAT?!" his voice boomed deafeningly, causing Petunia to flinch. "I will NOT have any weirdoes living under my roof!"

"Believe me, Vernon, I already tried telling him!" She pleaded, hoping he would calm down.

"HIM?! You mean you've been living with a man for the last month?! Did he try anything on you??" Vernon pointed his finger at his wife, his face rabid with fury.

"No! No no no! He came to stay because Harry is in danger. There are people out to get him and so the professor came to stay here as a precaution."

"We should've thrown him out last year when we had the change, Petunia! I will NOT put my family in danger over some freak son of your weird sister's!"

Indescribable anger flooded Petunia and coursed violently through her veins like ocean waves during a hurricane. Her husband's words about her dead sister unleashed a hell of emotions which she strained to keep suppressed. Repulsed by him, she moved farther away from where he stood in front of her. She went back to the table and broodingly sat down in the chair from which she ate her breakfast.

It took all the restraint she had to keep her inner feelings from being displayed on her face, and somehow, she managed to remain calm. After all, she'd said some not too nice things about Lily, herself. In fact, some of the cruelest things ever said about Lily probably came from her own mouth.

Flatly, she said as she looked at him straight in the eye, "He has to stay here. It's the only way that the man who killed his parents won't find him. It's only until school starts, Vernon, then we'll be rid of the both of them."

"But Petunia--!" Vernon started to protest.

"They both stay. I'm sorry, Vernon, but we have no choice."

His mouth tightened which caused his mustache to twitch. He then turned to walk out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Petunia shouted after him.

Dryly, he answered, "To the office. I need to deliver some reports." Then he was out the door.

Petunia couldn't say that she was sorry to see him go. He'd infuriated her. Although she was made at her husband, the next time she saw Severus that afternoon, she'd made sure to tell him to stay out of Vernon's sight. He agreed, but not without his usual sneer.

It wasn't until later that night that Vernon finally came home. It had been strange sleeping alone those first few weeks of his absence, but now it was even stranger having him in the bed next to her. As she lay there trying to fall asleep, she thought about how it had been her wish for her husband to come home, but now that he was, she didn't feel any better. She'd hoped things would go back to normal when he came home, but she still felt as though she had no control as to what was going on around her. 

Vernon hadn't said two words to her when he came home. She couldn't tell whether he was mad at her or uncomfortable with the thought of freaks inhabiting his house. What was even more strange was the fact that he hadn't said anything to Harry, either. Not even to criticize. Perhaps the next day, she thought, things would get better for her and for Vernon.

The next day, Saturday, things did get better. Vernon woke up in a better mood and he and his wife went to London for some shopping and caught a movie. Even the dinner was lovely. He talked about the people he met in Argentina, the exotic places he'd seen and how he should be home permanently by October. Petunia was thankful that the topics of Harry and Severus were avoided. The outing was a welcome one for she'd wanted to get away from that house and just be normal again. It was during their evening stroll through Hyde Park that Petunia began to wish that when Harry left for school that year that he would stay gone and never come back. As they drove home that night, Petunia couldn't imagine a day that could've been better. She'd forgiven Vernon for what he'd said about her sister and realized that she had probably been a little too thin-skinned. Once they had gotten home and in bed, she vowed to herself to make Vernon's last two remaining days at home comfortable and enjoyable.

On Sunday, Petunia woke up happy and refreshed. At had been a long while since she felt this at ease. The morning went by without incidence. The sun shone brightly in the clear sky as puffy, brilliant white clouds dotted it's pristine perfection. There was a light breeze that whipped softly passed Petunia's face, adding a bit of rosy color to her cheeks. Vernon decided that he wanted to have his afternoon tea out on the terrace in the back yard, so Petunia happily obliged and brought the tea outdoors. For the better part of an hour, the two sat on the comfy lawn chairs blissfully sipping their tea in blessed silence. There were no sounds except for birds chirping cheerfully overhead.

"Ahhh, a fine day, isn't it?" Vernon asked his wife with a smile. He sat his empty cup and saucer down on the patio table.

"Mmm Hmm, just wonderful," Petunia returned the smile. 

"Dear, I've been thinking..." Vernon started. 

"Yes?" she asked before taking another sip of tea.

"I think you should come with me back to Argentina."

Oh, how she wanted to. She would give anything to escape this lonely house for without Vernon or her little Diddykins, she felt useless and bored. She needed to be someone's wife or someone's mother, she wasn't content waiting at home biding time until her family came back home to her. 

__

But what about Harry?? It was that cursed voice again.

__

So, what about Harry? He has Severus, besides he's going back to school in a month. 

__

But you're his aunt.

I'm Vernon's wife and Dudley's mother! I can't help if Lily went and got herself blown up! I'm not going to put my life on hold for her brat! I'm tired of sitting at home being separated from my husband!

Lily was your sister.

No more! Stop it! I'm going and that's it!

"Of course I'll come, Vernon, dear," Petunia sweetly smiled and took another sip of tea.

"Splendid!" he clapped his hands together and laughed joyfully. "Oh, Petunia, you're going to love it! Lobster for dinner every night and you won't have to clean a thing! Everything's taken care of!"

"Sounds lovely," she responded, but on the inside she wondered if she was just trying to assure herself that she was doing the right thing by going to Argentina with Vernon whilst leaving Harry behind.

Just then, there was a sound like a weak firecracker which was followed by three figures in mysterious, black hooded robes instantly appearing in the back of the lawn by the fence, taking Petunia and Vernon completely by surprise. She dropped her cup and saucer in shock. It shattered into pieces on the brick terrace.

"What the devil?!" roared Vernon as he began to rise out of his seat.

"Stay seated, Vernon," a wide-eyed Petunia instructed him quietly.

"What?! Petunia, they're trespassing on _our _property!"

"Shh!"

At that moment, Severus instantly appeared on the terrace in the same fashion as the hooded figures who were ascending the lawn towards the house. His wand was raised and he had a look of utmost seriousness and solemnity on his face. Petunia realized that it was three against one. Slowly, she got up out of her chair. She didn't know what to do. Should she and Vernon run?? What about Severus?? Though they were completely covered from head to toe and she couldn't see a thing, she knew what they wanted. They wanted Harry.

"Petunia!" Severus barked. "I can't take them all by myself!"

"Where's Harry???" she asked frantically.

"I told him to stay inside!"

"Are you sure he's safe??"

"Unless he's going to try to act hero once again and come outside! Petunia, there's no time to go get anyone else! I need your help!"

Petunia froze. Oh God, had it come down to this?? What could she do?? There's was no way she could help! She couldn't!

"I can't help you, Severus!" she shook her head.

"Merlin, Woman, don't be stupid! I need your help!" he yelled sharply. 

"I can't, Severus! I just can't!" She would be crying if she hadn't been scared out of her wits. Vernon rose up angrily, but Petunia screamed, "Vernon sit down!!"

"Petunia, you idiot, if you don't do anything then you're going to get us all killed!! Do you want to die?! Do you want Lily's son dead?!"

All she could think of were Harry's angry words to her a couple of weeks back: _"You know, I don't hate Uncle Vernon or even Dudley as much as I hate _you_! You know why?! Because _you_ were suppose to love me and want me! You are my _aunt_! My mother's _sister_! That's why I had to come live with _you_!_

He was right, she was his aunt. By taking him in, she, in effect, had agreed to protect Harry as she would've protected Dudley: with her life.

Upon exhaling the breath she'd taken in so deeply, her shoulders sagged in resignation and she succumbed to a decision witch would probably have a lasting impact on her life from here on out. With sad eyes bedimmed with tears, she looked over at her husband who was more than perplexed by the whole situation. In a wavering voice, she apologized sorrowfully, "Vernon, I'm so sorry..." 

If it was possible to look even more confused than he already was, Vernon achieved it. "Wh--what?? Petunia what are you--?!"

Sighing, she said, void of any emotion whatsoever, "Accio, wand."


	5. Chapter 4: Don't Dream, It's Over

****

Author's Notes: Thanks to all the reviewers! I truly adore you and I hope this next long-awaited chapter will please you. Sorry it took so long but I've been so busy.

The title and quote come from the song of the same name by Crowded House.

Chapter 4: "Don't Dream, It's Over"

"...you'll never see the end of the road while you're traveling with me."

The moments following her simple _accio_ incantation were a blur to Petunia. Her secret was no longer a secret; the skeleton in her closet was out now and dancing blatantly in front of Vernon's horrorstruck eyes. She turned her head away when she summoned her old wand because she couldn't bear to look at Vernon's face and see the disappointment and disgust that was inevitably there. At first, she didn't know if she'd even said the right spell, after all, it had been years and years since she last used it, or any magic as a matter of fact. Her answer quickly came at the sound of her wand breaking out of the trunk in the cupboard where she had stored it ages ago. In no time had it come flying out of the glass door to the terrace, whizzing and buzzing as it hurled towards her. Holding her right hand up, she caught it and winced as the thin piece of wood slapped against the flesh of her hand. For a fleeting few seconds, a stinging sensation spread over her palm, but she dared not drop the wand just because of several moment's pain.

As she looked over at Severus, she saw relief briefly overcome his features before he turned back to face the three hooded figures who had by now brandished their own wands. All three had their wands raised steadily before them in their right hands, the points of the wands were level where their eyes would've been had she been able to see their faces. They moved side by side in unison, their each step in rhythm with one another. Petunia's heart beat faster and faster, gradually becoming fainter as the seconds were marked by the abbreviated pulsations of a vein in her right temple. The vein had taken on a life of it's own as she could feel it clench and release under the thin blanket of skin. _Clench... release... clench... release... clench... release..._

Her wand felt foreign in her sweaty grasp. The last time she'd used it she'd been a teenager, newly expelled from Hogwarts. Her forehead creased, causing the imprints of both age and anger to appear there on the peach-colored flesh as memories from the past emerged from the grave Petunia had desperately and frantically thrust them into for the better part of her life. Her mind was a metaphorical trunk in the sense that it was like the trunk in the cupboard that housed the sentimentalities Petunia couldn't bear to forget about, but yet, didn't want to be reminded of day after day. There were certain things that she locked away into the deepest recesses of her psyche so that she could be sure they would never resurface to soil her daily thoughts. The only thing to ever free them from the repressive psychological prison in which Petunia had cast them was in her hand now. As she held that wand, _her_ wand, she was bombarded with visions of times past--visions of friends, classes, magic and... Severus.

His once young face flashed before her mind's eye and instantaneously, she felt the anguish of having loved him, the betrayal of finding out he'd secretly joined that vicious group of murderers, rapists and torturers and the helplessness to do anything about it. Her anger became real when it stopped dwelling in her mind and set off to course through her veins. With every inch it moved, it left behind a raging fire of fury that soon consumed her whole body. It wasn't only her mind that was in this fight now, but also her body. Her eyes narrowed and her chin raised. The thin lips on the small mouth curled into a simpering smile of sinister abhorrence. Mrs. Petunia Dursley had been a distant memory of a few minutes ago. With an unflinching posture coupled with her wand in her raised hand, she had reverted back to Petunia Evans of yesteryear.

At last the trio of hooded figures stopped about fifty feet from where Severus and Petunia stood on the terrace. One of the concealed persons then spoke. It was a woman who sounded very familiar to Petunia. The woman's voice was not only very high-pitched, but mocking and contemptuous as well. Petunia felt that whomever was beneath that hood didn't have to taunt with words for the tone of her voice was derisive enough.

"Hello, Petunia," she cackled loudly. "Remember me?? By the look on your face I would say no. Tsk tsk. How unfortunate as you were always one of the more brilliant ones. I would say even more so than your sister. She was _obviously_ not intelligent enough to keep herself alive, but I don't underestimate _you_, Petunia."

At the mention of her sister, Petunia's body was bathed in a new rage. How dare any one of these people mention her sister when it was one of their kind that killed her! Just who was this acerbic lady who hid her face like a coward?? That's exactly what all these profane, depraved Death Eaters did! They hid under robes and hoods and carried out their Dark Lord's deeds--murdering, pillaging, destroying... Not stopping until the stench of death tickled their nostrils.

__

Clench... release... clench... release... clench... release...

Petunia couldn't believe how unfaltering her voice was when she spoke. It hid none of the acrimony she felt inside. The tongue inside her head was as venomous as a cobra's spit. Her words were to be used as daggers, used to reduce the enemy to nothing more than the pile of filth of which they were composed. There were reasons that she had shunned magic for more than twenty years and four of those reasons were on her property right now. They were all barbaric freaks!

"Who are you?" Petunia demanded tersely.

"I am a servant of the Dark Lord!" the mystery woman answered proudly.

"Are servants of the 'Dark Lord' forbidden to show their faces?" Petunia asked impatiently. She glanced at the other two figures on either side the woman, but they neither flinched nor spoke.

Once again, the woman laughed, but her laughter lacked warmness and sanity. It sounded like the howls of a being gone far beyond the brink of madness. "Can you not place me, Petunia?? Does my voice not bring back a memory that surely you've carried around all these years?? Think, Petunia, think very hard back to the night in your seventh year when your world came crashing down around you, when you overheard something that you weren't suppose to hear..."

Severus stepped in and yelled angrily, "Stop!"

But Petunia thought back to her seventh year. There were several nights that she could remember, but none of them caught her attention, and she certainly didn't remember anyone fitting the description of this lunatic that stood in her yard making an outright spectacle of herself. Then several blurry, albeit evocative, images flashed vividly in her mind. Like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, all the hazy, swirling fragments came together to form a picture. In the midst of a darkened room that housed many, many bookcases, Petunia saw her seventeen-year old self. This simple scene triggered her memory and the image in her mind began to tell a story that had been long forgotten. She recalled being out of bed late one night, one of many nights that she couldn't sleep. Being the type that always wanted to be resourceful and not waste any free time, Petunia would sneak off to the library and get a head start on homework and essays. Not only did this help her get ahead, but most of the time it would make her so tired that all she could think of on her way back to her room was the nice, warm bed waiting to comfort her exhausted body and the soft, fluffy pillows that were anxious to cradle her head. On one particular night, though, as she browsed the shelves in the library looking for a book for an essay due in Arithmancy, she heard whispering. Curiously, she tip-toed to the end of the bookcase and peeked around the corner. In the floor, between the two bookcases, she saw a group of four people sitting in a circle. They were all leaning into the circle, their heads almost touching at the center.

It took awhile for Petunia to ascertain what was being said because at that moment, her heart was pounding against so hard against her chest in fear that she could hear it in her head. When she finally calmed down, she heard fragments what her contemporaries were talking about.

"...It won't be long, he's growing stronger and more powerful..."

"...I'm going to join, too. My brother just joined..."

"...Mother and Father think it's what the Wizarding world needs..."

"...I know a lot of people who want to join..."

"...Severus Snape just joined..."

At the name _Severus Snape_, Petunia leaned around the corner of the library shelf a little farther. She had a special interest in Severus as they'd been seeing each other since her fifth year. Unfortunately, she just heard bits and pieces of the foursome's conversation, and only when the respective speaker became too enthusiastic about what he or she was speaking about and consequently, grew a little loud. This caused a reaction of extreme consternation from the other members and prompted an immediate shushing. More than several times Petunia heard someone hissing, "Keep your voice down!" One of the voices sounded suspiciously like that of Rodolphus Lestrange, a popular Slytherin boy.

No matter how far Petunia craned her neck around the shelf, the secretive conversation being discussed on the floor of the library didn't become any more comprehendible. From what she could hear, Severus's name wasn't mentioned any more and though she was curious to know what they were talking about, she knew better than to stay around that lot. They were Slytherins (Rodolphus only befriended other Slytherins), and except for Severus, she didn't associate with them. On the whole, they were bad news. None of them were to be trusted. Somehow, though, Severus had transcended the prejudice she'd held against that particular house and had earned Petunia's trust which had taken several years to mature and blossom. It was only natural that he'd been highly apprehensive of her as well, but during their years at Hogwarts, they'd become accustomed to keeping company with each other. Time had had the same affect on their relationship that it had on wine.

Realizing that she would be better off going back to her dormitory before the group could be alerted of her presence, she started to turn around and tip-toe off. Unluckily for her, escaping would not be so clean cut. When Petunia turned around and tried to step quietly away, she tripped over a raggedly, skeletal-looking dust-colored cat. Though she caught herself by grabbing a hold of a shelf of the nearest and most convenient bookcase, in the process, she had also managed to drop her thick Arithmancy book from the safety of her arms. It made a resounding _thud_ when it made contact with the floor.

When she'd calmed down and regained her balance, she looked around for Filch's cat but didn't see her. _Oh no,_ Petunia thought, _Mrs. Norris has gone to get that filthy squib and I'm going to get in trouble!_ But Filch seemed to melt away from her worries as four angry-looking Slytherins stood before her. The tallest boy, Rodolphus, the one voice that Petunia had identified, grabbed her arm roughly.

"You silly girl!" He spat irately, "You're going to get us in trouble! Quickly, come this way!"

In any other situation, Petunia would've protested being touched by this deceitful and arrogant worm in any shape or form, but she'd worked so hard this year to earn the best of marks to screw up by getting caught roaming the castle after curfew. She was a seventh year and knew there would be no leniency, especially if she were caught by McGonagall or the Headmaster. So, with the four Slytherins she ran to the back of the library and through a door that led into a darkened room. Almost inaudibly, one of the other boys, whom Petunia knew as Regulus Black, shut the door. For several minutes, the five of them stood deathly still in the obscurity of the room, too afraid to breathe for the fear that Filch would hear them.

Rodolphus's hand was still on her upper arm, but not as painfully as when he'd first seized her. Now was not the time to protest being manhandled as it could mean certain punishment for all of them. Minutes upon minutes slowly went by and finally after hearing nothing from the library, Rodolphus declared that they were out of trouble, for the moment at least. Then he muttered _lumos_ and a small but bright light emitted from the tip of his wand. He held it up to Petunia's chin, illuminating her defiant face. His face was less than charming as his eyebrows met with fury and his mouth was twisted in rage.

"What do you mean listening to our conversation like that?! Do you not know any better than to mind your own business?!"

Petunia stood her ground and bore her flaming eyes into him. With her nose in the air, she talked to him as though she were looking down her nose at him, even though he stood a couple inches taller than her. "I speak to no one with a wand at my neck! Remove it now!"

"Or you'll do what exactly?? I don't see your wand about you. Or are you hiding it?" Rodolphus laughed in a mocking tone.

"I don't need a wand, you pompous prat," Petunia snarled acidly.

"You must be joking," he laughed merrily. "Wandless magic is virtually unheard of. I know of only a handful of people who have mastered it. One of them is a student here at Hogwarts and he's a Slytherin, definitely not the type to go around teaching pathetic little schoolgirls like you such an exacting art. You're no Slytherin, or I would know your name. So, I don't believe you!"

"Wait," Petunia turned her head just slightly to see a girl with a long face and shiny hair approach Rodolphus from behind. "I believe that she's telling the truth, Rodolphus. Don't you recognize her? She's the girl that Severus has been seeing these past couple of years."

"That seventh-year Ravenclaw?? The mudblood??"

That most contemptuous, detestable word burned Petunia's ears as the sound of it traveled through them. The instant she heard the incendiary remark, the sound of an incantation left her lips loudly. Four sets of eyes watched Rodolphus fall to the ground, unable to get back up.

"I can't feel my legs! I can't feel my legs!" He shouted frightened.

Regulus now brandished his own wand and pointed it at her.

"Now do you believe me, Rodolphus?" Petunia flared. Then she turned to Regulus and warned, "Regulus, I would put that away if I were you. I've already proven that I don't need a wand to send you to the floor like your pitiable friend here."

"Yes, Regulus, lower your wand," the girl said furtively. Petunia was suspicious, but she didn't make a move. The girl bent over and retrieve Rodolphus's still lit wand from the floor and held it up in front of her. Petunia could see her face more clearly now. It was highlighted in a pale glow cast from the light of the wand. Her eyes were a clear blue in color. The smile that graced her lips was catlike in its reticence.

"It takes a brilliant mind as yours to do magic like you just did. Was this a gift from Snape? Did he teach you magic that had been passed down in the Snape family from generation to generation?" The smirking girl took a couple of steps towards Petunia. "I find it odd that he thinks _you_ worthy of learning an art confined exclusively to pure-blooded families. But perhaps he felt sorry for you because of your most unfortunate birth. After all, you can't help which family that you're born into, can you?"

Petunia drank this speech in and listened, hoping that the girl would reveal the discussion she and her fellow Slytherins had been having about Severus back in the library. To get information about Severus, she would take the insults now and be offended later. Her blood boiled to be in the company of these prejudiced, poor excuses of witch and wizards, but she held her tongue and was attentive.

"I must say, it is a pity that your brilliance go wasted, Evans. You would've made a great Slytherin if you had been born of pure blood. You have all the traits that define us—cunningness, intelligence, craftiness—but as the daughter of muggles, your blood is too diluted with qualities that would lessen our stock. All Slytherins recognize that mudbloods are less than worthy of being called witch or wizard and should not be allowed to study magic. We all know that magical learning should be entrusted only in the hands of those most worthy. All Slytherins know that. So, that brings up a very important question. Why in the world would Snape, a most laudable and newly-made servant of the Dark Lord, want to teach _you_ the magical arts of any type?? Especially _wandless_ magic?"

Petunia gasped, but silently so as not to show any signs of weakness. Surely, this witch was lying. Severus, _her_ Severus, wouldn't join that group of perverse wizards. He wasn't as indecent as that! She had known him since his third year, her fourth year, at Hogwarts. They'd studied, talked and learned together. She'd opened her heart to him! Severus was the first person she'd let glimpse into her soul. Joining the Death Eaters was just something that he could not do, Slytherin or not. Pure-blood or not!

Betraying herself, she screamed out, "You're lying! Severus wouldn't join the Death Eaters! He's different than the rest of you!"

The girl cackled with an utmost cruel countenance. "You don't know him as we do, Evans. He _is_ just like the rest of us. That's why he's a Slytherin. You can't be sure that he's not just using you for some greater purpose. Perhaps the Dark Lord has something in store for you mudbloods and you're just Snape's little experiment." Her face looked pained to don the sadistic smile that planted itself there.

Petunia didn't know what to think. Severus was a Death Eater? ? He was just using her?? Were all the years of mutual companionship all a façade?? She couldn't believe these statements that left this bitter girl's mouth. They had to be falsehoods!

At once, she wanted to go to Severus and beg him to tell her that what she'd been told were nothing but lies. She wanted him to laugh at her like he always did when she spoke of something he deemed nonsensical. This would be the one exception that she wouldn't hex him for it. But she couldn't do that. There was an element of trust that she and he had built up because of incidents like these that were likely to occur. He being Slytherin would obviously be a problem for her, and her not being a Slytherin would without a doubt be a predicament for him. That was the fundamental cause of the disdain they originally had for one another. She thought they'd gotten passed the issues that had threatened to divide them a long while ago, but apparently this was not so. Before she went and accused Severus of the most heinous of acts he could ever commit, she would calm down and investigate the matter further. It didn't mean, though, that the matter wouldn't weigh heavily on her mind.

"I refuse to listen to such rubbish! Especially from the likes of you!!" Petunia declared boldly, regaining her insubordinate stance with her nose thrust in the air proudly. Her lips curled in condescension and the superior air that had marked her throughout her life returned.

Sneering, the girl stood before Petunia so that there wasn't an inch between the ends of their noses. The tone of her voice coldly teased Petunia. "I've already succeeded in planting seeds of doubt within you, Evans. I can see it in your eyes. They're scared. I would be, too, if I were a lowly mudblood and my boyfriend was a Death Eater. Mark my words, the Dark Lord _will_ rise to save the wizard world from the likes of you soon, and when there are Death Eaters standing over you, ready to curse you into oblivion, I hope on one side stands your _boyfriend_, Severus Snape and on the other side stands me--"

"Bellatrix Black!!" the adult Petunia shouted. She gradually became aware of her surroundings as the dark room at the rear of the library melted into that of her backyard on Privet Drive. The robed Death Eater with a shrilly voice had finally been named.

"How good of you to remember, Petunia, however it's Bellatrix Lestrange now. Did you have a nice trip down Memory Lane?"

A thoroughly disgusted Petunia answered, "I haven't any particularly nice memories of that period of my life. That's why I've been living as a muggle all these years. It was better to live as a normal muggle than to run around uncivilized and loutish as you freaks!"

"No need to hold grudges, dearie. After what Severus did to you, you allowed him into your home, did you not?"

"I don't care what Severus did. That was in the past." She tried her best not to care, but an old hurt crept into her heart. Swallowing hard, she refused to look at the man next to her, only at the woman in front of her.

Bellatrix pretended not to hear Petunia, but continued her provocative rant. "To think that you can forgive a man after he orchestrated the death of your sister and brother-in-law," she clicked her tongue thrice. "Now _that_ takes a lot of swallowing of the pride."

"What?" Petunia whispered, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion. She had never, ever thought that _he_ would've been involved in the deaths of Lily and James! That wasn't possible, was it? Of all the people she had assumed that he'd probably killed, she at no time thought that her sister and brother-in-law would be among those that fell victim to Severus's wand!

Severus saw his ally weaken at Bellatrix's stinging words and crossly yelled, "Don't be daft, Petunia! I'd never in my life thought of ever harming the Potters, let alone kill them! I had too much pity for the unfortunate being that would be forced to raise that incorrigible son of theirs!"

Turning to look at him, she said hotly, "You lied to me once, what makes you think that I should believe you now!"

"For Merlin's sake, woman, don't you see what she's trying to do?!" he whispered impatiently. "She's trying to divide us! Put aside your pettiness so that we can keep them from taking Potter!"

The Death Eaters, however, took advantage of the diversion as Bellatrix shouted out a hex directed at Severus. But before he could respond, Harry had jumped through the glass door to the terrace that had been sealed and yelled, "_Protego_!"

"You never listen do you, Potter?!" Snape roared furiously at the boy, even though Harry had just repelled a curse that had been aimed towards the Potions Master.

"Harry, get back inside!" Petunia screamed.

Although Harry refused to listen, Vernon, who'd been scared out of his wits as he silently watched the exchange between his wife and these weirdoes, took the opportunity to run as fast as he could into the house. His wife didn't even notice. She had more important things going on.

Just as Vernon exited the terrace, another curse had been hurling into the air in which Snape had deflected, right before he had sent out a hex of his own. Petunia was frantic trying to remember the spell that disarmed opponents so that she could be of some use. It was something that sounded similar to "expel…" There was a saying that she'd learned in her second year DADA class… What was it?? It was right on the tip of her tongue. In fact, she was certain that it had been Severus that had taught her such a saying once when they were studying…

__

To something_ others, you will scream..._

__

No, that doesn't sound right, she thought.

Wait. _To disarm others, you will shout..._

__

No, that's not it either._ What is that blasted spell?! Spell... Spell... I'll _yell_ the _spell_..._

Then it came to her:

__

To disarm others, say a simple spell, thus it's EXPELLIARMUS you will yell!

In a hesitant voice, she screeched, "_EXPELLIARMUS_!"

The wand of the person to Bellatrix's right had flown directly and swiftly into Petunia's left hand. The Death Eater now tried to run behind Bellatrix and the other person who were exchanging curses with Severus and Harry. The mysterious person didn't make it, as he was hit by a stunner, courtesy of Petunia (that is, after she'd heard it used by Severus). With one Death Eater lying unconscious, she could help Severus and Harry take care of the others.

Her confidence was returning bit by bit. The more curses she heard shouted, the more her memory was triggered. Dozens of spells flooded her mind. They might have been stored in the farthest depths of her memory, but when she recollected them, it was as if they'd been just below the surface of her subconscious. Though rusty, Petunia dueled efficiently along with her nephew and his professor for some time. That is, until something went horribly wrong.

The other Death Eater, a man, sent a stunner towards Severus, who was battling with Bellatrix. He'd either not expected it, or not heard it, but he was knocked to the ground where he lay crumpled—his eyes shut, his face unnaturally peaceful. Even though she knew better, it didn't keep Petunia from thinking that he looked dead.

It was so like Severus to leave her alone to fight these heathens! She'd have to fight them alongside her nephew. A long-lived hatred sheathed her body. Bellatrix Black or Lestrange or whatever her name was, had taunted her as a teenager for her muggle birth, Severus had lied about being a Death Eater and had probably killed Lily and on top of that, three Death Eaters had attacked her family--her perfectly fine, normal, muggle family. Now a burning fury borne of hell raged inside her, greater than ever. It was too late to do anything about it, for Bellatrix caught her off guard and screamed, "_Locomotor mortis_!"

"Aunt Petunia, watch out!!"

In the instant that Petunia's legs had locked, causing her to fall down painfully, Harry had sent a stunner hurling towards the other Death Eater, sending him limp and unresponsive to the ground. Now, it was just Bellatrix and Harry. No matter how much animosity she'd felt towards the boy since he'd been dropped off on her and her family, she felt nothing but helplessness and anguish over not being able to aid him now. She could only watch as this evil witch stole Harry away to her Dark Lord. In silence, she cursed that whole awful world that she'd sworn to leave behind in her youth.

__

Clenchreleaseclenchreleaseclenchrelease...

Shutting her eyes, she no longer wished to witness the inevitable. Petunia felt as though she'd failed her sister. It was almost certain that her nephew would meet the same fate as his parents. In the solace of her mind, she tried to recall images of Lily so that she could come close to feeling the same pain as her sister and now her nephew had felt. If only she knew the blasted countercurse she could help him! The second that she had found Harry on her doorstep, she should've become reacquainted with magic, if only for his sake. How could she have been so thick not to realize how much danger Harry was in?!

At that moment, the mysterious voice, the voice that haunted her dreams and surfaced unwanted in her thoughts, returned to her, more urgent than ever. Had she not been so powerless and desperate for any type of miracle, she would've been startled and discomforted. Hungrily, she listened to it's wisdom amid the backdrop of her nephew's screams, attributable to the _cruciatus _curse, no doubt. His screams tore at her, but she had to listen to this voice. Once it told her what she needed to know, she noiselessly spoke the countercurse that released her and ran over to her nephew.

"Aunt Petunia!" screamed a hoarse and weakened Harry as he saw his aunt coming towards him, "NO!"

"_Avada kedavra_!"

Harry saw the deadly green light and closed his eyes. He'd witnessed so much death, that he didn't want to see anymore. The torturous cries sounded like they were spiraling down a tunnel of endlessness, traveling farther and farther away until they ultimately ceased. When the screams were no more and when their echoes had died, Harry knew that the curse had claimed his aunt. He was at the mercy of Bellatrix Lestrange now, the obedient servant to Voldemort. Waiting, he knew that at any moment he would be face to face with her beloved Dark Lord. Let him just take him. He didn't care anymore.

But nothing happened. He didn't feel the pain of the _cruciatus _nor did he feel as though he was being whisked away by a portkey. Cautiously, Harry opened his eyes, but instead of being in the audience of Voldemort, he saw his aunt towering over him, stony-faced and almost regal in posture. Her wand was still in her hand which was now lazily dangling at her side. Never before had he been so unafraid of his mother's sister or glad that she stood over him as she did right now.

Petunia stared at her own destruction, never flinching from the sight of the stilled body.

__

Clenchreleaseclenchreleaseclenchrelease...

She'd never used an Unforgivable before. In no way did she think she would ever use it. Severus had told her something long ago back in their schooldays at Hogwarts concerning the _avada kedavra_, the _cruciatus_ and the _imperious_ curses, "You can tell a bad witch or wizard from a good one by noticing his or her response to the Unforgivables. If after using one, a wizard can walk away unbothered, don't ever turn your back to him. Only the good wizard will be stripped naked of every belief in goodness and faith in wizardkind, causing him to reevaluate his view on right and wrong. Time alone will abate the shock, but you will never really forget the experience. A good wizard will lament, a bad one will hunger."

It was a good sign, she supposed, that she felt raw.

"Get up," she instructed her nephew softly, but with iron backing her words. Confused and still in pain, Harry did as he aunt told him to. Grunting, he managed to stand before her unfeeling gaze. In a detached and impassive voice, she said, "Put ropes around those other two Death Eaters. Consider it punishment for not listening to your professor and me."

Unquestioningly, Harry quietly went about murmuring incantations that made ropes suddenly appear around the still unconscious Death Eaters. Though still shaken from his brush with the Death Eaters, his mind buzzed. His aunt, the one who'd insulted his magical parents, who'd pretended that the magical world didn't exist, who'd wanted nothing to do with _that kind_, the one whom he would never have guessed in a thousand years to be a witch, had just used an Unforgivable.AuntPetunia was a genuine, authentic witch. If he hadn't been here to see her with a wand in hand and shouting out curses, he would've never believed it to be true. He was so awed and surprised that it was only natural that he had many questions that he wanted to ask, but lacked the courage to do so.Instead, he obeyed his aunt's request. Petunia, however, walked pokerfaced back into the house. She passed Severus, still lifeless laying on the grass, too numb to use _ennervate _to restore him to consciousness.

On the outside, she looked like she cared nor worried about a single thing, on the inside though, she was weighed down with several burdens. One concern was that her life would never be the same again. Her husband knew now that he'd married a witch and that she'd lied to him from the beginning. Also, she'd killed another human being. Would she ever be able to get over it? Would that eerie green light frequent her dreams and wake her from the deepest of sleep? The other concern was that Severus had played a part in her sister and brother-in-law's death. It wasn't only enough that he sneaked around and joined that destructive, ruinous faction of evil, but he had to hurt her further by plotting to kill Lily and her family. How foolish she had been to trust a damned Slytherin! The others were right, Slytherins turned out only the worst of witches and wizards and Severus was no exception.

Foolish child! What an extraordinarily stupid girl she'd been! She'd craved a challenge so much, intellectually as well as emotionally, that she'd stooped so low as to have appointed Severus as that challenge. He was attractive in that he was as mysterious as she. He was like her in that he was guarded, distrustful of everyone and hurt. In each other, they'd found peace and acceptance. But now, she thought, they weren't as much alike as she had initially thought.

Once inside her living room, Petunia sat down on the edge of her sofa. She sat stiffly with her back straight as a board and her trembling hands in her lap, still grasping her wand. For the moment, she was unaware of her surroundings. The only thing she noticed was the vein in her head rapidly clenching and releasing. It wasn't long before she became hypnotized by the monotonous repetition of the pulsations. Her eyes were open and unblinking and yet, she did not see. Oblivion threatened to encroach her, that is until her infuriated husband roused her from the catatonic-like state she was in.

"Petunia, how could you?!" Vernon bellowed. "You're just like one of _them_--those freaks!"

Petunia blinked a couple of times and gazed up at him puzzled. "What?"

Her husband stood before her looking very distraught and disturbed. His face was violet in color and his eyes were narrowed substantially.

"_You_ are one of _them_! Like your nephew, you are!"

Dumbfounded, she answered slowly, "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Is that all you have to say??"

She thought for a moment and at once, the repercussions of her actions hit her. The time of impact had come and she was being held accountable by Vernon. Remorseful, she bowed her head, and when she did, she saw the wand in her hand--that dirty, repulsive wand! Appalled, she brutally threw it down to the floor in front of her. Shooting up from where she sat, she moved away from it and went towards her husband, but he stepped away from her as though she had a contagious disease.

Befuddled by Vernon's behavior, she became panicked and questioned, "Vernon, what's wrong?"

"Petunia, you're... you're a... a..." He lowered his voice to say a word that had long been avoided in the Dursley household. As though it were a curse in itself, Vernon whispered it scornfully, "Witch!"

Petunia's lip quivered and she thought she would cry. Never had she wanted to hurt her husband this way. If it hadn't been for that nephew of hers and that bastard Severus, none of this would've happened. If she went back far enough, Petunia was sure that Lily shared in that blame somehow. Sorrow masked her face and as she pleaded, her words faltered, "Vernon, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Vernon! Please forgive me! I had no choice! I had to save Harry! He would've been killed!"

"I told you last summer that we should've gotten rid of him!"

"We couldn't do that. We made a promise to take him in!"

Vernon started pacing the room, looking up at his wife only to shout his acidic words so that they might sting her with the anger and betrayal that he felt. "But what about Dudley and me?! You take in that little freak and put us at risk!"

Moving quickly to stand beside him, she put her hand on one of his arms and implored, "I didn't know this would happen! This wasn't suppose to happen, I don't know how they found him!"

"But it did happen, Petunia! And not only were we attacked by freaks, but I find out that _you're_ one of them! When were you going to tell me?!"

Her husband's accusations stung Petunia. The tears she'd been holding back trickled listlessly down her cheek and lingered on her jaw line. Turning her sad, glossy eyes to Vernon she confessed, "Never. I--I left that part of me behind so long ago. I made up my mind when I was younger to wash my hands of magi--that stuff and to bury the memories of that part of my life. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you, Vernon, or to lie to you. When I met you, I'd finally found the normality that I'd been looking for. Believe me, please believe me, I never thought I'd use mag--that stuff again!"

Gruffly, Vernon asked, "Then why did you keep the wand??'

Helpless, Petunia couldn't answer the question. Why had she kept it if she hadn't planned on using it again? She could feel Vernon's heated gaze on her.

"It seems to me that Mrs. Dursley has been lying to everyone all these years."

Both Petunia and Vernon snapped the heads around to look at a conscious Severus who'd come in through the terrace door. He stood tall with his hands behind his back. Unlike Vernon, his manner was ambivalent. Though he remained terse and to the point, the expression on his face begged to ask questions, and many of them. When he looked directly into her eyes, Petunia knew what he was attempting to do and averted her face elsewhere.

"No one asked you to join this conversation," she snapped coldly as she wiped her eyes.

"Get out of my house!" Vernon yelled. "This is a conversation between my wife and myself!"

Severus snarled, "I would only be too happy to be able to finally leave this house, but before I go, I wanted to alert _Mrs._ Dursley to the fact that the Ministry is here and they are requesting to interrogate her about the happenings of this afternoon."

"There are more of you on my property?! Petunia, look what you and that nephew of yours has done! What will the neighbors think??" Vernon waddled over to the window and pulled back the curtain to get a better view of officials from the Ministry of Magic that occupied his backyard.

"It won't matter what they think after the Ministry officials question them then _obliviate_ their memories."

"Tell them," Petunia seethed, "that they've caused me enough headaches for a lifetime. If they've already talked to you and Harry and everyone else who saw this little fiasco, they don't need to hear my version. And while you're at it, tell them that if they don't take the boy, that he's going to be homeless because I'm not going to put my family at any more risk! If he's going to get blown up like his father and mother, he needn't take my family along with him!"

"I'll relay the message. In my own words, of course," Severus smirked and turned around to return to the terrace.

"See??" Vernon pointed out, "Even the neighbors know now that you're--that you're different!"

"They'll soon forget once their memories have been _obliverated_. Then they won't know a thing," explained Petunia, suddenly tired.

"I detest the use of the 'M' word on my property! I can't believe my own wife, the mother of my son, used the 'M' word in our own back yard! Was the boy worth saving that badly??" Vernon was now so livid that spit flew out of his mouth left and right. His face was so purple that Petunia feared that he would explode at any moment.

"I'm so very sorry, Vernon, but I had no choice. They might've killed all of us if I hadn't done something."

"Why didn't you just hand him over?? He's been nothing but trouble since he was dropped on our doorstep! Why should we care what happens to him??"

For a second, Petunia didn't answer. After swallowing hard, she looked Vernon straight in the eye and simply said, "Because he's my sister's son."

This answer didn't appease him a bit. In fact, it only served to further infuriate him. "You know, I married you despite the fact that your sister was one of _them_. I never held it against you because I thought that you were normal... And you repay me by inviting freaks and weirdoes into our house and telling me that you've always been one of their lot?!"

"REPAY?!" she shouted angrily through her tears. "So, you married me to do me a favor?! I didn't need your pity, Vernon!" Her jaw trembled with rage.

"Obviously not! If I'd known that you were of _that kind_ I never would've said one word to you!"

It was true that for the last several minutes she'd felt a mixture of anger toward Vernon for his insensitive words with regard to her nephew and sister and remorse for her own hurtful actions as she knew his views towards magic and anything related to it, however when he revealed that he'd married her as a _favor_ and that he never would have had anything to do with her otherwise, she felt as if she'd been stabbed through the heart. The hurt she felt was insurmountable.

"How could you say such a thing, Vernon?" she wept violently "I've been a good wife to you and a good mother to Dudley! I kept your house and made you happy. Never once in our marriage did I ever resort to using magic! Does it not count that I gave up magic and that other world before I married you??"

Vernon looked at his desolate wife, unmoved by her argument. "No. You lied to me and for that I can never forgive you, Petunia. Marge warned me before we got married. She told me to be careful, that if the sister is a bad egg, then there's bound to be something wrong with any other siblings. I didn't want to believe her. In fact, I didn't speak to her for several months after the wedding, but you know something? She was right. There's no difference between you and your ruddy sister!" Spit had gathered throughout his mustache. His words had left his mouth in sheer contempt. It didn't matter that the woman before him had been his faithful, loyal wife. All he saw before him was a wicked person who had deceived and lied to him. He shuddered at the thought of having married such a person.

Petunia was mortified. How could Vernon so easily turn on her?! "Vernon," she tried to reason as she walked up to him. Nevertheless, he stepped back and away from her. He wanted nothing else to do with her and he surely didn't want her to touch him. The _stuff_ might rub off onto him! "Vernon, please don't, darling. I'll-I'll send the boy away. We'll never have to be bothered with him again. We can even move away from here, maybe to a nice little house in Edinburgh and put all of this behind us. Please, just don't--don't leave me! Oh God, Vernon, what would I do?!"

Petunia was becoming somewhat hysterical as the prospect of Vernon leaving became more real. With his each scathing remark, they grew further and further apart. It seemed that every accusation was a step nearer to a divorce.

Vernon laughed cruelly and then barked, "Petunia, I'm not going to leave you..._You're _going to leave! I will not having you living under my roof shaming me and Dudley! I want you out by tonight!"

"You can't mean it!" she squealed in a high pitched voice. Most urgently she spoke. "Where will I go?? What will I tell people when they start asking questions??"

Ruthlessly, Vernon answered, "I don't care what you tell them and I don't care where you go just as long as it's away from here!"

"What about Dudley? What will I tell him?! Vernon, it'll hurt him so much if you send me away!" she sniffled.

Her husband got a mad look in his eye and for once he advanced toward her rather terrifyingly. He pointed a fat finger into her face and growled, "You're not going to tell him anything! You're going to stay away from him, that's what you're going to do. It's good that he wasn't here to see this mess."

"But I'm his mother!" Petunia howled pitifully.

"As far as I'm concerned, Dudley doesn't have a mother anymore. If he has to put up with a lying, deceptive, con artist..."

"Dursley, if you finish that sentence then this wand will finish you."

Both Petunia and Vernon tore their eyes away from each other and turned to see Severus standing by the door with his hand, gripping his wand, slightly raised and pointed in the direction of Petunia's husband.

Wiping her eyes with one hand, Petunia admonished Severus in less than ferocious voice. In fact, it was almost timid and slightly exasperated. "I thought I told you to get out of our house?"

Severus put his wand away in his robes and gazed hard at Petunia, ignoring her husband. "I wanted to tell you that the Ministry officials are finished with Potter and myself. The headmaster wants him to return to Hogwarts. He is obviously no longer protected here, so he'll be packing his things and going with me."

"Good! Take him!" Petunia shouted manically.

Turning his head toward the door, he said, "Potter, hurry and pack your things. I don't have all day,"

Hesitantly, Harry came in and as he walked towards the stairs he looked at his aunt and uncle. When he'd heard Harry's footsteps on the stairs, Vernon turned to his wife once more and spoke harshly, "When they leave, so can you."

"I don't have anywhere to go, Vernon!"

"That's not my problem, Madam. Get out and never shadow my doorstep again. And one more piece of advice: don't try to contact Dudley because I'll know if you do. If I find out that you've been to see him or have tried to call or write him, I'll make sure you wish you hadn't."

Petunia whimpered, but Severus stepped forward briskly. Vernon snapped his head around to face the irritating stranger. In a deep, dark voice that could slice words like a knife, Severus asked, "Are you threatening her, Dursley?"

"I thought I'd already told you to stay out of my business, you freak?"

Once again, the Potions Master brandished his wand and pointed it at Vernon's chest. The bigger man looked down at the thin stick that was poking into the skin just over his heart and quivered slightly. "You'll keep your tongue civil when speaking with others. It is unwise to annoy someone with a wand, especially seeing that you don't have one." Upon enunciating that last syllable, the wand was withdrawn from Vernon's chest.

Embarrassed, Vernon addressed his wife in a most unpleasant tone. Gritting his teeth, he said slowly and pointedly, "Pack up your things and get out. I'm going out for a while. When I get back, you better be gone. I don't care where. I don't want to know. Don't contact Dudley under any circumstances and never attempt to contact me again." With that, he gave Severus a glare and went into the hallway. Petunia heard him slam the door on his way out.

Sinking to her knees, she then took the opportunity to break down in tears. She was homeless! Vernon had ordered her to get out! There wasn't anywhere she could go as her parents had been dead for years as was her only sister. Life as she knew it had crumbled like a sand castle in water. The only thing she wanted to do was just sit in the floor and weep for what she had lost.

For a minute, Severus watched her crying episode with an unsympathetic eye and when he could take no more, he demanded, "Petunia, get up. Now."

"I've lost everything!" she wailed as she stayed put. "Everything! My husband, my _son_, my life! It's gone!"

"You act as though your brain has been addled. Pull yourself together and stop your crying at once!"

Petunia jumped up and jabbed a slender, bony finger into Severus's chest, her swollen, red eyes boring into his cold, black ones. "This is your fault! This _all_ your fault! And his!" She pointed her other finger to the ceiling, indicating Harry.

The Potions Master glared at her, "You've spent all your life blaming someone for the things that have happened in your life. It's time for you to take some responsibility! Stop blaming me, stop blaming your sister and stop blaming Potter for your own stupidity and weaknesses!"

"How dare you speak to me like that! I should curse you into oblivion!" She bent over and grabbed her wand off the floor. Pointing it at him, she gave him a look of extreme loathing. She wanted to say the curse, it dangled provocatively from her tongue trying to entice it's release from her mouth. Whatever curse she sent his way, he deserved.

He retorted in a most threatening voice, "Go ahead. Do it. But I must warn you, I am an expertise when it comes to curses that cause excruciating pain and discomfort. The moment that you curse passes your lips, I'll show you no mercy."

The couple exchanged murderous looks, but no more words were spoken until Harry came down the stairs with his trunk and owl's cage. When he saw his aunt and professor's wands pointed in each other's direction, he came to a sudden stop. Looking from his aunt to his professor, he said almost inaudibly, "Erm--I'm ready to go."

Without lowering his wand, Severus turned to look at Harry and his things. Only when he started giving Harry instructions did he discard his wand.

"As I told you before, we're going to the castle and upon arrival we are to go straight to the headmaster's office. Don't attempt to do anything foolish, because if you do, I promise that I won't give a second's thought to performing a _cruciatus_ curse on you to keep you in line. If today taught you nothing, then you're as unimpressionable and as dense as your father. We're going to get there using a portkey." Severus took a book from a nearby bookshelf and set it on the coffee table where he muttered an incantation and waved his wand.

Before the pair set off on their way to Hogwarts, Severus informed Petunia, "One more thing, Mrs. Dursley, or will you be reverting back to Miss Evans?? Dumbledore had requested that you come with us as he wanted to talk to you about the events that transpired today, but I'm under the impression see that you'd rather stay here and try to work things out with that ignorant idiot of a husband of yours," he smirked. "Shall I give the headmaster your apologies?"

Petunia's first reaction was to pick up the nearest lamp and throw it at his head, but she wouldn't have been satisfied until she'd stripped him of everything as he had done her. If there was ever a time that she wished she could go back in time and remedy her mistake of befriending him, she would've. Would he never stop causing her pain? Perhaps Professor Dumbledore was her only hope. Maybe she could talk him into helping her somehow by maybe _obliviating_ Vernon's memory or taking her magic away so that Vernon would let her come home or so that she could see her son. Hopefully, after complaining about Severus and the rudeness she had to endure from him whilst he was staying in her home, the headmaster would fire the worthless pile of dung and send him packing. _Then where would he be? That's right. Right where I am right now_, she cunningly smiled to herself.

Through the fog of her own misery, she could see the sun trying to break through. She would get her revenge one way or another. Even if Vernon and Dudley were returned to her, she'd get even with Severus for every wrong he committed against her from the first time they'd laid eyes on each other up until now. By the time she finished with him, _he_ will be the one that wished he'd never laid eyes on _her_.

She stuck her wand in the pocket of her skirt and walked over to where Severus and Harry had gathered. With renewed confidence, she said, "No, I think I'll be coming with you."


End file.
